~E LIBRARY
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Digitized by the Internet Archive
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https://archive.org/details/winnebagostoriesOOIame
WINNEBACO
STORIES
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The hunting grounds of the Winnebagoes
HAROLD B. LEE LIBRARY
BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY
PROVO, UTAH
WINNEBACO
mm
ft
STORIES.
111
IP1
By
OLIVER LA MERE
Interpreter, Winnebago Tribal Councilman,
and Vice-President, Grand Council
of North American Indians
and
HAROLD B. SHINN
Principal, Chicago Public Schools
Illustrated with half tones largely from
photographs by the authors
1 loot
RAND M9NALLY &- COMPANY
NEW YORK
CHICAGO
SAN FRANCISCO
Copyright, 1928, by
Rand McNally & Company
All rights reserved
Edition of 1930
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
Grateful acknowledgment is made to the Bureau of
American Ethnology for permission to reproduce from
the Thirty-seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of American
Ethnology the illustrations on pages 31, 51, 70, 76, 79, 107,
and 152 of this volume.
Made in U. S. A
B-30
To
dflubg %irg Jlonaldsntt
A real friend of American lore
Battle Hollow , Wisconsin
THE CONTENTS
PAGE
Who Are the Winnebagoes? . 9
Bear Chief’s Arrival . 16
The Contest and What Came of It . . . 26
The Foolish Hunter . 37
The Story of the Red Bird . 47
The Unlucky Horse . 58
The Ten Brothers and the Strange Sister 64
Co-no, the Spirit of Gambling .... 75
The Moons . 90
The Origin of Corn . 100
The Quarrel about a Name . 110
The Otter and the Beaver . 123
The Story of the Rabbit . 135
Wak-jon-ka-gah . 149
A Pronouncing and Defining Vocabulary . . . 163
7
Along the hanks of the Wisconsin River
WINNEBAGO
STORIES
WHO ARE THE WINNEBAGOES?
Almost every boy and every girl in
America who has good, red blood and a
strong heart, and who loves fair play, has
an interest in the Indians. They had been
living in America for a long, long time
before Columbus found them, and we would
all like to know how long ago this was.
Their skins were a reddish brown; they were
not white people, although they still had
many of the customs of the white people
of long ago. The early Indians had not
yet learned the use of metals; they had no
steel knives, iron axes, or plows, nor any
needles or pins like ours. Instead of all
these things, they used stones of various
kinds for all sorts of work. They had stone
spearheads and arrow points, stone knives
X|
A map showing that portion of Wisconsin once occupied by
the Winnebagoes. When the white man first discovered this
region it was a vast hunting ground abounding in game and fur¬
bearing animals. The explorers and fur traders who visited the
country found numerous Indian villages. The crosses on the
map indicate the sites of some of the largest of these villages
WHO ARE THE WINNEBAGOES ?
11
and hammers and axes and grinders, and
even stone ornaments for their ears. Their
needles and fishhooks they made of bone.
The pioneers and settlers who came from
Europe found many different nations and
tribes of Indians in the various parts of the
country. Each group of tribes that were
much alike in language and customs was
called by the whites one nation. In the
central region of the United States was the
Sioux nation, and one of the strongest
tribes of the Sioux was the Winnebagoes,
as the accompanying map will show.
The Winnebagoes were first discovered
by white men in 1634. Jean Nicolet had
been sent by Governor Champlain to explore
the region west of Quebec. Landing from
Lake Michigan on the east shore of Green
Bay, in what is now Wisconsin, Nicolet
discovered first the Pottawatomies, who
probably had come there across the lake
from Michigan. And farther south along
the shores of Green Bay he found the
Winnebagoes.
12
WINNEBAGO STORIES
The Winnebagoes were described by other
traders and by missionaries during the next
few years as a strong tribe of many people.
One of their villages alone had over five
thousand men and women living in it. It
is said that the Winnebagoes used but little
caution in their dealings with others, relying
entirely upon their own strength and fear¬
lessness for protection. They were very
crafty, or cunning, and were often at war
with their neighbors, the Fox, the Illinois,
and the Pottawatomies. So powerful were
they that they pushed farther and farther
into Wisconsin, crowding out or overcoming
their enemies, until the Winnebago villages
extended along the Wisconsin River from
Lake Winnebago to the Mississippi.
Wherever the Winnebagoes settled, they
built mounds of earth, some only two or
three feet high, and others as high as low
trees and as wide as a large school build¬
ing. The lower part of some of these mounds
probably formed the bases of the larger
houses or lodges, in which perhaps twenty
WHO ARE THE WINNEBAGOES?
13
Courtesy Wisconsin Archaeological Society
CUTLER PARK MOUND, WAUKESHA, WISCONSIN
Mounds such as this one were built to mark the location
or possessions of various Winnebago clans
families lived all together. Some of the
other mounds were shaped like animals,
probably to show who the owner of the
land might be. Thus, a bear-shaped
mound was made by the Bear families, or
clan, upon the land which they owned.
A turtle mound would be made by the
Turtle clan wherever its land might be;
and so it was for all the other clans.
14
WINNEBAGO STORIES
Still other mounds seem to have been
used to cover the bodies of the dead. They
were the cemeteries of the Winnebagoes. In
these mounds are found the bones of men
and women and often some of their most
valuable possessions, such as ornaments and
dishes. If food or wooden articles were
buried, too, they soon decayed, so now we
do not find such things.
When central Wisconsin was settled, the
government bargained with the Winnebagoes
for their land, for it was valuable for lum¬
bering and for farming. The Indians were
given land farther west, and today most of
the Winnebagoes are living in Nebraska.
They have become farmers, cattle raisers,
storekeepers — in fact, they do well anything
that white people do. Some are physicians,
while others are lawyers, ministers, or school
teachers. Many of the boys and girls
attend high school and college.
A great many white people think of the
Indians as cruel and deceitful. Even some
of the histories used in schools, as well as
WHO ARE THE WINNEBAGOES?
15
stories and tales, lead us to think so. This
is far from being wholly true, and is very
unfair to the Indians. As a matter of fact,
there is really far more cruelty and deceit
among the white people of a large American
city today than there ever was among
the Indians before they learned to drink
the white man’s whisky.
The Indians in general were as honest
as the whites. They were intelligent and
eager to learn, and their loyalty to their
friends has never been surpassed by any
people. Massasoit and Pocahontas were only
two out of the many Indians who were
true friends to the early settlers.
The stories which follow on these pages
were gathered together to help us better
understand how the Indians lived and what
they thought. These stories are still told to
boys and girls in Winnebago homes. And
so, if they interest Indian boys and girls, they
will, without doubt, interest white boys and
girls too, for boys and girls of every land
and every race are just about the same.
BEAR CHIEF’S ARRIVAL
Nestling in the beautiful hills of north¬
eastern Nebraska, about five miles from the
Missouri River, were the government offices
and warehouses for the Winnebago tribe,
and the cottages of the Indian agent and
his employees. A flour mill, a blacksmith
shop, and carpenter and shoe shops were
maintained there, and at first there was a
sawmill, as well. The flour mill, shops,
and cottages were all built by the old-time
carpentry methods and in large dimensions.
Large, coarse timbers were mortised and
pegged together. Iron nails were used only
in the finishing work. The employees of
the Indian agency included a miller, a
farmer, a blacksmith, and a shoemaker,
together with their assistants. A doctor
and an interpreter were also maintained at
the Indian trading post.
The work of the post was carried on in
a log house. Surrounding it were many
16
BEAR CHIEF'S ARRIVAL
17
other shops and dwellings, making quite a
good-sized village. Here the Indians came
to have their implements repaired, to do
their trading, and to hear the news of the
day; for most of them lived in the lonely
ravines or hollows nearer the Missouri
River. Such a place was Big Bear’s Hollow,
where Chief Big Bear and his band were
camped. Honey Creek was another little
stream flowing into the Missouri River.
Honey Creek Hollow was so named because
Old Nace, the tribal bee hunter, had found
more bee trees in that particular hollow
than in any other place around.
Almost every Indian family lived in a
lodge of the old-time oval shape made with
a framework of slender poles stuck in the
ground in a circle, their tops bent over the
center and bound together with strong
strings or cords made from the fibers of
basswood bark. This frame was strength¬
ened by other poles placed around the sides
horizontally, in as many rows as the
builders saw fit to use. These poles were
18
WINNEBAGO STORIES
then covered with elm bark or mattings
made of rushes which overlapped until the
lodge was rain-proof. At the top a place
about two feet square was always left open
for the smoke hole. Some of the lodges
were made in oblong shape with two or
more fireplaces within, and even now the
Indians often speak of old-time lodges with
Bennett photograph
AN OLD-TIME WINNEBAGO LODGE
These lodges were oval in shape and covered with bark.
For larger families the lodge was made longer
BEAR CHIEF’S ARRIVAL
19
as many as ten fireplaces, for Indian families
were large in those days.
To this community news came one day
through the Indian agent that a branch of
the Winnebagoes which had remained in
Wisconsin, the native land of the tribe, was
being moved to this new home in Nebraska.
The agent told the Indians the day on
which their relatives were to arrive in Sioux
City, Iowa, the nearest railroad point.
Though it was twenty-five miles to the
north, all the Indians who had teams and
wagons were instructed to meet the new¬
comers and bring them back.
When the news spread over the reserva¬
tion, there was great excitement and expec¬
tation, for these Indians had been separated
from one another for several years, and
almost everyone in the tribe had near rela¬
tives among those who were coming.
Finally came the time for the arrival of
the Winnebagoes from Wisconsin. On the
morrow they were to be put off at the
railway station, so all the Indians who had
20
WINNEBAGO STORIES
horses and wagons started out to meet the
train. All the others came and camped
out around the agency. The next day was
a long one, but finally it came to an end.
As the sun crept down near the tops of the
western hills, one of the braves who had
been on the lookout on the higher hills to
the north came tearing to the Indian camp
at full speed. His spotted pony, pulled up
for the sudden stop, sat back on its haunches
and then stood still, panting. “They are
coming on the north bottoms!” the young
Indian shouted.
The news created the greatest excitement,
and everyone rushed out of the camp. The
young women took their pails and hurried
to the springs in the ravine for fresh water,
and from every lodge there soon came the
savory odors of food being prepared for the
newcomers. This was in accord with Indian
etiquette: “If a stranger comes in your
midst, do not stand gazing at him in public
places. But if you have aught to eat, invite
him to your home and partake with him, for
BEAR CHIEF’S ARRIVAL
21
Welcoming the Winnebagoes on their arrival from Wisconsin
even a kernel of corn is not too little to
divide with him.”
At last, just at sundown, the creaking
wagons came slowly rolling into camp.
Some were loaded with Indians, and others
held camping outfits and cooking utensils
22
WINNEBAGO STORIES
or household goods. In many of the packs
of the newcomers was much dried venison,
which the Nebraskans greatly enjoyed, for
they had had little venison since leaving
their old home in Wisconsin, the land of
the pine tree and the deer.
For several moments all that could be
heard was “Ho, ho, ho,” as the Indians
shook hands with their relatives and friends.
Indians do not kiss or embrace each other,
and there is some doubt as to whether
they even shook hands in the primitive
days.
It was not until the Big Dipper had
nearly made its complete circuit around the
North Star that the village grew quiet, for
each family had to be told everything that
had happened during all the years of their
separation.
The Indians had no sooner gone to bed,
it seemed, before Standing Buffalo, the
village herald, was up and about, singing
the morning songs and telling the people
to arise. “The Great Father, the Sun, who
BEAR CHIEF'S ARRIVAL
23
gives us light and life and growth upon
Mother Earth, is even now coming over
the eastern horizon.” Then, as the Indians
assembled before their lodges in the bright
sunlight, the children were able to get a
good view of all these strangers who spoke
their own language.
There was Black Hawk, who all these
years had resisted the pleadings of the
Great Father in Washington to remove his
tribe to Nebraska, and who only a few
days previously had been caught with his
people at a public feast. At the point of
the bayonet they had been forced to get
into box cars on a freight train and be
shipped like cattle to Sioux City. A chief
Black Hawk was in appearance as well as
in action, with strength and leadership
written on his face. His word was law
among his people.
But who was this other great chieftain
whose words seemed to charm everyone
like music? Was he another chief of the
tribe? No, he was Bear Chief, the tribal
>** .,f
Bear Chief , the tribal story-teller
BEAR CHIEF'S ARRIVAL
25
story-teller, the son of old Two Claws,
and, as his name indicated, a member of
the Bear clan of the Winnebagoes. He was
of ordinary stature with a strand of long
black hair hanging down over each shoulder.
Two eagle feathers stuck in his hair, on
the back of his head, denoted his ability
as a warrior. His face was round, and he
wore a heavy ornament of conch shell and
wampum in each ear. A strong bow of
hickory was his cane. Thrown over his left
shoulder was a quiver of arrows all well
feathered and tipped at the points with
mud-turtle claws, while on his right shoulder
was slung a carefully folded Hudson’s Bay
blanket. He wore a buckskin shirt and
a pair of leggings of the same material,
with fringes down the outer sides of his
legs. His moccasins were ornamented with
colored porcupine quills.
Thus stood Bear Chief, the story-teller,
as the children saw him the day after his
arrival.
THE CONTEST AND WHAT
CAME OF IT
It was in the fall of the year that this
removal, or migration, of the Wisconsin
branch of the Winnebagoes took place, and
it was two or three weeks before the new¬
comers had become accustomed to their new
homes. Some had been taken in by rela¬
tives, while others,. who had brought enough
material to make lodges, now had their own
homes.
It was not long until all the children
had heard about and had seen Bear Chief,
but, childlike, they did not know how to
approach him. One day, as they were
returning home from a squirrel hunt in the
woods, young Red Bird, who was a leader
among the Indian boys, said, “Let's all
take one shot at that knot in the elm tree.
The poorest shot shall ask his father to
speak to Bear Chief about telling us
stories.”
26
THE CONTEST AND WHAT CAME OF IT 27
“Yes, let’s do it,” they all cried out
together, for they were eager for the stories.
“Red Bird will have to shoot first,” said
Little Turtle, the smallest boy in the
crowd, as they measured off a good distance
for an arrow shot and formed in line.
“All right,” said Red Bird. “I’m not
afraid, and I believe I can hit it just as
easily as I would a buffalo’s heart.”
So he placed his best arrow on his bow¬
string and pulled it back its entire length
several times to see whether the bow still
retained its full strength and springiness.
Then he took careful aim and let the arrow
fly. It went whizzing forth, striking the
tree just beside the knot.
“I knew you would miss it!” shouted
Little Turtle, as the other boys laughed
in glee.
“If it had only been a buffalo I would
have sent the arrow through its heart,”
said Red Bird.
Then Green Crow boldly stepped forward
with his bow and arrow, saying boastfully,
28 WINNEBAGO STORIES
The day of the shooting contest
“I’ll show you how to hit the knot. Just
watch me.” But he let fly his arrow so
far from its mark that he was unable to
find it.
“You are always boasting, Green Crow.
You wouldn’t have killed the squirrel dang¬
ling now at your belt if I hadn’t wounded
it first,” cried Red Bird.
Then Flying Cloud, the chief’s son,
shot, and hit the knot on the edge. With
a feeling of safety and a proud air he
stepped aside for Little Turtle, who now
was examining his arrows. Little Turtle
THE CONTEST AND WHAT CAME OF IT 29
was the youngest and the smallest of the
boys, but his father had taken great pains in
teaching him how to shoot an arrow. He
had cautioned his son always to keep his
arrows straight and to be sure not to swing
his bow hand to either side while the arrow
was leaving the bow. So, because he had
heeded all of this training, he now placed
a very straight arrow in his bow and with¬
out the least sign of excitement pulled back
on the arrow. “Snap!” went his bowstring.
The other boys shouted merrily at his
misfortune. But Little Turtle immediately
pulled the extra string into place with one
jerk of his hand, and then, again placing the
arrow, he aimed and let it fly.
To the surprise of all the boys, the
arrow went straight to the center of the
knot. They did not say much, but Green
Crow, upon whom had fallen the lot to ask
his father to speak for Bear Chief’s stories,
said, “I know it was an accident.”
The boys, merrily talking of the day’s
hunt and the contest, went home, for it was
30
WINNEBAGO STORIES
growing late in the evening. Before they
separated for their lodges after reaching
camp, Green Crow told his father of the
day’s hunt with his playmates. And he
told him how, on the way home, they had
had a contest and how he had lost not
only the contest but his arrow as well.
He explained to him the bargain by which
the loser was to beg his father to ask Bear
Chief to tell them the stories for which he
was so noted. Old Crow did not answer
him immediately, but for several moments
sat silently smoking his long calumet.
Finally he spoke.
“Son,” said he, “how many times have
I cautioned you that to shoot straight you
must first have a straight arrow and a
steady bow hand? See to it that you
observe these things hereafter. I will see
Bear Chief in the morning, but it is a
custom among our people that a young
man or boy seeking stories must perform
some act of veneration for the one from
whom he seeks the story.” With this wise
THE CONTEST AND WHAT CAME OF IT 31
counsel to his son Old Crow, with his
family, retired for the night.
The next morning Old Crow had his
squaw prepare an especially good breakfast.
Stepping across to the lodge of Bear Chief,
Wooden spoons made by the Indians
he respectfully asked him to come over and
partake of the meal. Bear Chief came
back with him and, after they had eaten,
Old Crow repeated to him the story of the
contest of the day before, telling how his
son had lost and how as a result it fell to
his lot to beg for the stories.
Bear Chief was by that time in a happy
mood and gladly consented to tell the boys
a story. “But,” said he, “as it has been
the custom of our people to teach the
young mind to retain what it hears, I must
32
WINNEBAGO STORIES
ask the young braves to gather some nice,
dry wood and to bring in a good fire log
for this evening, in order that we may be
comfortable in the lodge and have light as
well for the story.”
As soon as Bear Chief had departed,
Green Crow lost no time in finding his
companions, for they were anxiously await¬
ing him. He told them of Bear Chief’s
consent and of his request for firewood.
How delighted they all were! Red Bird
said he would borrow his mother’s pack
strap, which was made of buffalo hide.
And Little Turtle was sure he could take
his father’s ax, which he always kept keen
and sharp. Flying Cloud and Green Crow
were to do the packing, or carrying, while
the others were to cut and tie the wood in
bundles.
Soon the boys were tramping down the
ravine into the woods, talking merrily and
wondering what the story of the evening
would be. They worked with such energy
that they soon had two good-sized bundles
THE CONTEST AND WHAT CAME OF IT 33
or packs of nice, dry wood which Green
Crow and Flying Cloud proceeded to carry
to camp. The bundles were light at first,
but seemed to get heavier and heavier, so
that the boys had to lay them down sev¬
eral times and rest before reaching camp.
There they threw down their packs and
with perspiration running down their faces
returned for the next loads. Those seemed
heavier than the first, but at last the boys
carried them, too, into camp. Then came
their final load, the big fire log. It was a
The boys on their way to the camp with the big fire log
for Bear Chiefs lodge fire
34
WINNEBAGO STORIES
fine, long, dry log from which some one
had peeled the bark to cover his lodge.
This log the four boys partly carried and
partly dragged into camp.
The young braves, having now made
good their word, were happy, and each
returned to his father’s lodge for the eve¬
ning meal. With the appetites of hungry
bears they did full justice to the jerked
meat and corn which their mothers had
prepared for them. And eagerly they waited
for the dusk, for that was when Bear Chief
had told them to come to his lodge.
At last, since everything comes to those
who have earned it, dusk began to come.
Since it was but a few rods to Bear Chief’s
lodge, they arrived there in good time, just
as the stars began to peep out here and
there in the heavens and a perfect and
silent night fell upon the village. The
boys stood outside the lodge for several
moments, longing but hesitating to go in.
Finally Red Bird told Green Crow to go
in first.
THE CONTEST AND WHAT CAME OF IT 35
“No,” said that young brave, “I asked
for the story and it is up to one of you
boys to go in first.”
So Little Turtle stepped forward and
opening the door flap, which was made out
of a buffalo robe, led the way inside the
lodge, which was of the ordinary oval shape,
covered with rush mattings. The four boys
took their seats on the north side of the
lodge. The entrance was on the east end
and Bear Chief was seated at the rear or
west end. At the south end sat Bear
Chief’s squaw, making moccasins for her
chief out of smoked buckskin. Behind
Bear Chief, hanging from the lodge frame,
were his bow and quiver of arrows. Around
the edge of the lodge hung several bags
made of basswood fiber and decorated in
different colors and designs. The mattings
lying around the lodge fire were made of
beautifully colored rushes woven together.
Bear Chief sat smoking his long pipe,
the calumet. As the four boys entered,
he calmly took the last few puffs. Then,
36
WINNEBAGO STORIES
knocking the ashes out against the poles
around the hearth, he carefully placed the
pipe in its case and hung it up in the
frame of the lodge.
“Ho, ho, my grandsons,’’ said Bear
Chief, for so does an old man call young
boys. “To begin with, let us have a good
hre.”
At once the boys rushed out. Flying
Cloud and Little Turtle each brought in an
armful of wood, while Red Bird and Green
Crow managed to drag in the big log and
to place one end of it in the fire in the
center of the lodge. Flying Cloud and
Little Turtle then proceeded to place the
smaller sticks around the end of the log.
Soon the fire began to burn brightly, and
the boys took their seats again.
THE FOOLISH HUNTER
“Flying Cloud, my grandson,” said Bear
Chief, “will you please turn around that
stick that has its big end in the fire?”
So Flying Cloud turned it around and
placed the smaller end in the fire.
“There,” said Bear Chief. “It is good.
The old people say that if you burn your
fire sticks with the big or lower end first
there will come a long, cold winter. There¬
fore Indians are always careful about the
way they place their fire sticks in the fire.
And in everything else they are careful.
There is always a natural way and an
unnatural way, a good way and a poor
way of doing things. To do things in an
unnatural way only means that you pro¬
long your labor and waste time. [Here Red
Bird looked at Green Crow as much as to
say, “You did that.”] Now, grandsons,
you have exerted yourselves well for a
story. And because it was on your return
37
38
WINNEBAGO STORIES
from the hunting trip that it occurred to
you to ask for a story, I shall tell you a
hunting story this evening.”
The fire was now crackling and burning
nicely, sending forth a blaze which filled
the lodge with a beautiful glow of light,
and made the shadows play along the wall.
‘‘Long ago our people, the Winnebagoes,
lived in Wisconsin; this word means the
Country of the Pines. It was the custom
of the old people to encourage the young
people to fast, for they knew that the
Great Spirit created the different forces
which our people know as spirits. And he
also created the different animals, the birds
of the air, and the fishes of the lakes and
streams, each one with its own habits and
its own means of protection. So it was to
learn of these things and to obtain knowl¬
edge of the mysteries of the Great Spirit
and his creation that the people encouraged
fasting. They told their children to go up
into the cliffs or hills away from human
habitations and there to fix their thoughts
THE FOOLISH HUNTER
39
upon the things they longed to learn about,
and to pray and receive inspiration from
the Great Spirit and his creation.
“A certain young Indian who wished to
become a great hunter heeded thus the
counsel of his parents. He fasted and fasted,
and learned the ways of the forests and the
habits of the animals of the woods and of
the birds of the air. This young man
seemed to have power to go out and kill
almost any animal or fowl that he wished,
and he was known and respected among
his tribe for his skill in hunting.
“At this time the tribe was living along
the shores of the Fox River in the Country
of the Pines. One day, in the spring, as
the ice in the rivers began to break up,
this young man became restless, for he was
eager to eat duck’s flesh. As the days
passed, he hungered more and more, and
mentioned his desire many times to his
companions. So anxious and impatient was
he that one day he said, ‘I am so hungry
for duck’s meat that as soon as the ducks
40
WINNEBAGO STORIES
come north I am going to slaughter many,
and first I am going to render out the fat
and bathe in that. Then afterward I shall
slaughter a great many more and have a
great feast on them.’ He could think of
nothing else as time went on, until at last
there came a day when spring seemed to
be in the sunshine and the wind. The
weather was fine, and the first geese and
ducks migrating northward appeared in the
southern sky. Each day brought more and
more of them. At last, one day, the very
heavens seemed to be black with them, and
it was then that the young man slung his
quiver of arrows over his back and selected
his best bow. Thus armed, he started out
for his favorite hunting place on the banks
of the Fox River where he had gone many
times before and killed all the ducks he
wanted. There he seated himself, certain
that it would not be long before he would
start home with a load of ducks, to carry
out his desire to bathe in their fat, and to
top off with a feast on their meat. He
A river scene in the Country of the Pines
42 WINNEBAGO STORIES
waited patiently, but all the ducks seemed
to know his intention, for none of them
would fly within shooting distance of him.
“Thus he spent the day; in the evening
he went home without a duck. But he
consoled himself with the belief that this
was just an unusual occurrence. He was
not worried as to whether or not he could
kill the ducks if they came near enough to
him, for the young man was a sure shot
with the arrow.
“The next morning he arose just at day¬
break and was off again to the water’s
edge. Here he sat waiting and waiting all
day, but he waited in vain, just as on
the day before, and went home somewhat
discouraged, although still hopeful for the
morrow. Again the third day he went and
with the same result. Now among the
Winnebago tribe of Indians, and among
many other tribes, the number four is con¬
sidered a magic, or sacred, number. It is
thought that the same things happen only
four times, that the fourth time is the last
THE FOOLISH HUNTER
43
time, and after that it is useless to try
again. So the young man went a fourth
day to his favorite place upon the river
bank, but again he sat waiting in vain
all through the long hours.
“Finally, as the sun began to sink in
the west, he called to mind the inspiration
he had received in fasting, and his past
ability as hunter and marksman. Now, all
Indians who fast have individual chants or
songs, calling forth all the powers of their
being; and this young man had his. With
uplifted face he stood and sang his song,
which meant, ‘It is I, it is I; it is I, it is I.’
“Even while he sang he thought he heard
a sound in the distance, and he listened
eagerly. Far down the river came a flock
of ducks flying in V formation, as we often
see them in the spring when they migrate
to the northern lakes. And it was the
leading duck he heard singing the very
same song that he sang, ‘It is I, it is I.
The blue sky in the heavens my body is.
It is I.’
44
WINNEBAGO STORIES
“The flock came nearer and nearer until
it was almost over his head. He placed
an arrow in his bow and, with the leading
duck almost touching the tip of his arrow,
let it fly. But the arrow shot out into
space, and the flock of ducks flew on and
disappeared in the distance.
“The young man went home in very
low spirits, and that night he lay in his
deerskin, wide awake and restless, watch¬
ing the moonlight and shadows flicker across
his tepee and listening to the sighing of the
wind among the leafless trees. Soon he
heard some one come softly to the side of
his lodge and whisper his name, saying, ‘I
am after you. Come with me.’
“A spirit then directed his soul to leave
his body still sleeping in the tepee, and to
come away to the upper regions, to the
lodge of the Bird Spirits. There, in his
dream, the leading Spirit counseled him,
saying, ‘Young man, you have not spoken
as you should of holy things. You have
said things that you should not have said.
THE FOOLISH HUNTER
45
Our bodies are all like the sky above you,
so how could you kill us if we were not
willing you should? The Great Spirit made
us for food, and as such we have blessed
your people. But we are not mere play¬
things. So henceforth be careful how you
talk and keep in mind all that we have
told you.’
“With this the soul of the young man
was taken down again to his own home
and back into the physical state, into his
earthly body.
“The next morning the young man went
out early, and it was almost no time at
all before he had shot all the ducks he wanted
for food for himself and for his neighbors.
But he did not take the promised bath in
the fat of the ducks.
“Now then, grandsons,” said Bear Chief,
“nearly all Indians observe these rules.
When I was a young boy myself, my
father taught me very strictly never to
play with food or to waste it, or to kill
more than was necessary for food.”
46
WINNEBAGO STORIES
Old Bear Chief stopped speaking and
took down his pipe for a smoke.
“Green Crow here always tries to kill
more squirrels than are needed for food,
Grandfather,” said Red Bird.
“It is not right,” said Bear Chief. “And
now, grandsons, if tomorrow you will fast
a half day, in the evening I will tell you
another story.”
THE STORY OF THE RED BIRD
The boys were up early the next morn¬
ing. Each one told his parents about the
promised story and about the fast they
must keep first. As they met at Flying
Cloud’s lodge, each boy had his bow and
arrows, and had blackened his face as a
symbol of humbleness before the Great
Spirit. It is said by the old Indians that
he who refrains not from the use of char¬
coal will receive blessings.
Thus the boys started for the woods to
shoot and to while away the morning until
noon, when they were to break their fast.
They went eastward down a little stream
until they came to a big elm tree under
which they stopped to play. Red Bird spied
a squirrel up in the tree and shot an arrow
at it but missed, and the arrow got caught
in the branches. Then what a jolly time they
had trying to shoot the arrow down! By
and by one of Green Crow’s arrows was
47
WINNEBAGO STORIES
Red Bird with his bow and arrow on his way to the woods
caught, also. It was so near noon when
they finally shot Red Bird’s arrow down
that they went home, leaving Green Crow’s
arrow still up in the tree. As soon as they
J
'ri oof
THE STORY OF THE RED
reached home they were given food to eat
and oh, how good it tasted! Bear Chief
was indeed right when he said that it was
wrong to waste food.
That evening four anxious boys started
again for Bear Chief’s lodge. They entered
with expectant hearts and found Bear Chief
sitting in his usual place. He greeted them
with a smile and asked them if they had
fasted.
“Yes,” answered the boys in unison.
“Yes, and we have learned the lesson about
not wasting food.”
“Grandsons, I am going to tell you
tonight about the orphan boy, but first we
must have a better fire and a good seat.”
So he leaned over and poked the fire into a
blaze and then squirmed about to make for
himself a comfortable seat. “All right now,
boys,” said he, “you listen.
^Xong ago there was a village in the
forest built in the circle in which Indians
usually build their villages. On the out¬
skirts lived an old woman with her young
4
50 WINNEBAGO STORIES
grandson, for the boy’s father and mother
had died, leaving him an orphan. The life
of the village went along quietly, as life in
most villages does, until one day there came
a bird with beautiful red feathers. It flew
into a tall tree in the middle of the village
circle, causing a red glow of light to spread
over all the lodges. It was such a hand¬
some bird that the chief wanted its feathers.
He offered one of his two beautiful daughters
in marriage to anyone who would kill the
bird, so all the young men took their bows
and arrows, each of them expecting to win
a bride.
“Each day the young men came to the
foot of the tree, and among the crowd was
a man called the Ape, who was a cheat in
everything he did. Each youth was allowed
to take one shot at the bird, and whenever
anyone’s arrow came close to it a shout of
excitement would go up. Drawn by this
shouting and noise, the orphan boy came
too, dirty and uncared for, with his hair
matted on his head. Each day upon his
THE STORY OF THE RED BIRD
51
return home he told his grandmother about
the contest and asked that he might go
and try his bow and arrow on the bird.
And though his grandmother scolded him,
every day he would quietly sneak away to
the contest.
'“Oh, here comes the orphan boy! Let
him try!’ everyone cried each day as he
joined the crowd. So he would place an
arrow in his bow and shoot at the bird.
The Ape, who was always there, also shot
This is a blunt-headed arrow. Killed with such an arrow ,
the bird did not bleed to death. Thus the plumage was not soiled
and it could be used for robes and headdresses
at the bird at the same time and always
came very close to it, causing the crowd to
send up a shout.
“Thus the Winnebagoes shot for three
days. On the fourth day the contest was
52
WINNEBAGO STORIES
continued, and as usual the orphan boy
stepped up to shoot. Just as he let his
arrow fly, the Ape also shot, but it hap¬
pened to be the orphan boy who hit the
bird, causing it to fall to the ground. But
the Ape claimed it, taking it away from the
orphan and presenting the bird to the chief,
who thanked him and gave him his elder
daughter in marriage.
‘In the scuffle the orphan boy snatched
a single bright red feather, and this he
carried home under his blanket. Soon the
feather changed into a much brighter and
more beautiful bird than the one which had
been shot. The boy showed his wonderful
red bird to his grandmother, telling her all
that had happened.
“As the grandmother still very much
doubted his ability to shoot, the orphan
boy braided a rawhide hoop and told her to
roll it across the floor of the wigwam. She
did as she was bidden, and the boy shot it
right through the center. The hoop fell in
the middle of the lodge in the form of a
THE STORY OF THE RED BIRD
53
yearling buffalo heifer. Then the orphan
boy told his grandmother to cook some of
the meat of the heifer and take it to the
chief for his meal.
“This she did, but when she took the
meat to the chief’s lodge she passed it
under the door flap, saying, ‘This is for the
chief from his son-in-law.’ Then she slipped
away unobserved.
“The chief ordered his women to see
who it was, but the old grandmother was
nowhere to be found.
“This the old woman did for four days
in succession. On the fourth day the women
saw her and discovered that it was the
orphan’s grandmother who brought the deli¬
cious meal of buffalo meat. And when they
went to question her about what she had
done, they found there the orphan with the
beautiful bird.
“The chief was told of all this, and he
called the orphan boy to his lodge and gave
him in marriage his second daughter, who
was even more beautiful than the elder
The beautiful daughter of the chief
THE STORY OF THE RED BIRD
55
daughter. But because the boy was so dirty
and unkempt, the Ape and his wife were
very careful not to touch him and to keep
all their things out of his reach when he
came in. The wife of the orphan scolded
them, telling them they ought to have pity
upon him.
“On the fourth day of their marriage his
wife cried all day over his pitiable state.
The next morning the orphan asked his wife
to take a walk with him into the forest.
They walked a long way until they came
to a large lake. There he told his wife to
note him carefully so that she would recog¬
nize him again, showing her a scar on his
leg. Bidding her have no fear, he dived
down into the lake. He did not come up
again, and finally she began to fear that he
had been drowned. There she sat and wept
until finally she fell asleep. Late in the
afternoon a beautiful young man in wonder¬
ful robes came and wakened her.
“‘Come, wife,’ he said, ‘it is time for
us to go.’
56
WINNEBAGO STORIES
“‘You are not my husband,’ she replied,
for she did not recognize this stranger. ‘My
husband dived into the lake here and has
not returned.’
“Then the stranger showed her the scar
upon his leg. He told her that he had gone
into the lake to transform himself, and that
all these things were but to test her love.
At this she was very happy.
“Upon their return from the lake his
sister-in-law recognized the orphan boy at
once, and after that there was no end of her
calling him ‘Brother.’
“The orphan’s skill with the bow and
arrow made him a wonderful hunter, so
that he supplied the whole village with
meat, and finally, upon the death of his
father-in-law, became the chief.
“Now, my grandsons,” said Bear Chief,
“tomorrow evening I shall tell you about the
unlucky horse. It is time for you to return
to your lodges for the night but, before you
go, tell me what you are going to remember
out of tonight’s story.”
THE STORY OF THE RED BIRD
57
“The beautiful red bird that came from
a feather,” exclaimed Green Crow, who was
always the quickest to speak.
“No, grandsons, that is not the best
thing to remember.”
The boys sat and thought. None of them
wanted to say anything until he was sure
he was right. Then Little Turtle’s eyes
sparkled with a sudden thought, and he
whispered, “I’m going to remember that any
boy, even if he has no father or mother, can
succeed in almost anything he tries to do.”
THE UNLUCKY HORSE
The next day the boys were so eager
for the evening story that the day seemed
very, very long, but after they had wandered
far through the woods and had played all
the different games they knew, the evening
did finally come, and the stars began to
twinkle in the heavens. Eating very little
supper, they met early and started for
Bear Chief’s lodge, taking their seats on
the north side.
“Ho, grandsons,” came his usual greeting.
Slowly he finished his long pipe of kinni-
kinnick and, after knocking the ashes out
against the fire log, carefully placed the
pipe in its case and hung it on the poles of
the lodge.
“Grandsons,” said he, “did you notice
the spotted horse at the last dance which
Big Bear gave? It was running loose
among the picketed ponies and seemed to
belong to no one.”
58
THE UNLUCKY HORSE
59
“Oh, yes,” cried the boys in unison.
“And it is a fine horse, too.”
“I wish I owned it,” said Green Crow.
“Well, that is the horse I mean, and
you must let it alone,” continued Bear
Chief. “Not so many years ago the Omaha
Indians went on a hunt with the Winne-
bagoes. Big Bear’s son, whose name was
‘Comes-Traveling-over-the-Country,’ was one
of the party from the Winnebagoes. This
Indian was a great warrior and knew no
fear. As you know, the buffalo hunters
generally go out in the spring of the year
when the new grass is long enough to make
good grazing, so that they may have plenty
of food for their horses. They take their
fastest horses and go well armed, because
they often meet Indians from unfriendly
tribes with whom they must fight.
“So this hunting band of which I am
speaking started west on the Platte River
bottoms of Nebraska in the spring. In
those days many herds of buffalo roamed
there. The party went west as far as the
60
WINNEBAGO STORIES
village of the Pawnee Indians who lived
where Genoa, Nebraska, now is. There
they all visited for a time, and there it was
that this spotted horse was presented to an
Omaha Indian. The horse had previously
been owned by a Pawnee warrior who had
been killed on its back while fighting with
the Sioux.
“It was because of the tragic death of
its owner that the Pawnees presented the
horse to the Omaha while he was on this
buffalo hunt. One day, while the Omahas
and Winnebagoes were chasing the great
buffalo herd, they suddenly came upon a
band of Sioux warriors, and immediately a
fierce battle took place. The Omaha on
his spotted horse happened to get too far
to one side and was chased by a small
party of Sioux. While fleeing from them
the horse stumbled, throwing his rider to
the ground. He feigned death and was
shot at by a Sioux Indian as he lay there.
But the arrow went between his body and
his arm. The Sioux, supposing him dead,
A CHIEF OF THE BEAR CLAN
The Bear clansmen were the soldiers of the tribe and carried
some kind of weapons or soldier's sticks. The bonnet of feathers
was not worn in the forests. Instead of the bonnet a headdress
made from a deer tail was worn
62
WINNEBAGO STORIES
leaped from their horses and scalped him
alive, for he lay perfectly still.
“Ever after that this Indian was known
as the ‘Scalped Omaha.’ He lived for many
years among his own people and among
the Winnebagoes, for he had a Winnebago
wife.”
“Wasn’t he lucky?” chirped Green Crow.
“He didn’t have any more hair to take
care of. But he must have been a funny¬
looking Indian.”
“Yes, he was a queer-looking Indian.
He looked a whole lot like a bald-headed
white man. After the battle in which the
Omaha lost his scalp, his spotted horse
was presented to Comes-Traveling-over-the-
Country, Big Bear’s son. Comes-Traveling-
over-the-Country sent the horse back home
with his father, who returned with the regu¬
lar hunting party in the fall of the year.
“But Comes-Traveling-over-the-Country
went on farther west with a hunting band
of Pawnees who were going for more
buffalo, for, as I have already said, he was
THE UNLUCKY HORSE
63
a great warrior and loved adventure. And
from that day to this no one has ever
seen him. Some say that the war party
was overtaken by an epidemic and that he
died of the sickness. Others say that he
was captured by the Sioux and taken west
as a captive, but no one knows what really
became of him. He was the last owner of
the beautiful spotted horse that you saw at
the dance.”
“I don’t want anything to do with that
unlucky horse,” thought each one of the
boys to himself. As they said good night
to the old story-teller they thanked him
for telling them all the good stories about
their people, and promised that they would
not forget a word but would, when they
were old men, tell the same stories to other
boys at night about the log fire.
THE TEN BROTHERS AND
THE STRANGE SISTER
“Well, sons, what story shall I tell you
tonight?” asked Bear Chief, as the boys
stole softly into his lodge the next evening.
The night was cold and windy, but within
the lodge it was cheery and warm. The fire
log burned brightly. Its sparks snapped
like popping corn and its smoke curled up
into the shadows, then out through the smoke
hole above, where it seemed to float between
the stars, away, away overhead.
“Tell us something about the animals
of the woods and of the prairies,” answered
Little Turtle. “Tell us where they all came
from, and whether they, too, ever think
about things as we do. Are the buffalo
and the deer just animals, or are they
really like us inside?”
“Well, I cannot tell you all about that,
but if you will listen to the story my grand¬
father told me when I was a young man,
64
TEN BROTHERS AND THE STRANGE SISTER 65
then perhaps you can answer some of your
questions yourself. Anyhow, I’ll tell you
about the quail and some of the other
animals and birds.
“Once there was a long, ten-fireplace
lodge in which lived ten brothers, each one
having a separate fireplace for himself.
When they went out to hunt, it was the
custom of the brothers to go all together
along a single trail to a place some distance
from the lodge. Here they would stop,
seating themselves in a circle. They would
smoke together, and then all would depart
in different directions in search of game.
In the evening they would return to this
same place and come home over the single
trail. The eldest brother would always
bring a buffalo, then would follow the next
younger brother with a moose, and the
third with a bear. The fourth brother would
bring a black-tailed deer, and so on down
to the youngest brother, who would alw'ays
bring a quail. Thus they lived, each day
going on the chase.
66
WINNEBAGO STORIES
“One day, as the eldest brother returned
in the evening with his usual pack of buffalo,
he discovered a woman sitting outside the
lodge, so he rushed the last few steps home
and greeted her. ‘Oh, sister, I am so glad
you have come,’ said he, and, after inviting
her into the lodge, he hurried about and
cooked the tongue of the buffalo that he
had just brought. When it was ready, he
placed it before her, but said, ‘Sister, it
would seem as if I meant to discourage
your eating, but, little sister, please do
not eat too much, for my brothers are yet
to come.’ So, after taking only a few
bites from the tongue, she put it aside.
“And sure enough, she had no more than
stopped eating when the second brother
came. As soon as he came within hearing
distance, the eldest brother shouted to him
and told him about the arrival of their sister.
The second brother rushed home, and, after
greeting her, he also quickly cooked for
her the tongue of the moose that he had
brought. Thus it went on with each
TEN BROTHERS AND THE STRANGE SISTER 67
brother. As he came home, each brother
cooked for her the tongue of the animal that
he had brought, until at last there was
only the tenth, or youngest, brother left.
“Finally, late in the evening, he came
home and the eldest brother told him also
of the arrival of their sister and of how
each brother had cooked something for her.
But the tenth brother did not make any
reply or even cook for his sister. Instead,
to the surprise of the others, he ignored her
altogether.
“Thus things went on until one day the
ninth brother asked the youngest why he
ignored their sister. The youngest brother
replied, ‘Our eldest brother has counseled
us from the time we were little, and he has
told us all the things that he knew, but not
until the arrival of this woman did I know
that I had a sister. She may not be what
she seems. Maybe she is not really our
sister.’
“Thus they argued with him day after
day as they sat in the woods before they
Li ' "
68 WINNEBAGO STORIES
separated for the hunt. At first they were
angry with him, then they laughed at his
doubts, but at last they admitted that he
might be right after all.
“He finally won over all his brothers
except the eldest one, who still continued
to regard the woman as his sister. But at
last, one day, as they sat smoking before they
departed on the chase, he asked his brothers
their reasons for suspecting her. They told
him that he was the eldest and had told
them from time to time all that he knew
of things in general, but that he had never
mentioned a sister. For that reason they
supposed that she was an impostor.
“And thus, at last, the eldest brother,
too, was won over to their way of thinking,
and they decided to send back a spy to see
what the woman was doing in their absence.
They decided to send their youngest brother,
so he turned himself into a little bird and
flew to the top of their lodge, where he
alighted and listened. Lo and behold, the
woman was talking over to herself her
TEN BROTHERS AND THE STRANGE SISTER 69
plan for killing them all that same eve¬
ning. ‘ I will waylay them on their way
home and kill them one at a time, which
will be easy, but I wonder if I will be able
to kill the youngest brother. Ah! He might
even now be somewhere around listening to
me,’ said she.
“The little brother then flew back to the
others and reported the woman’s plan to
kill them that evening. The brothers held
a hurried council and decided to leave for
other parts of the country right then and
there. They agreed to travel in different
directions in order not to leave such a plain
trail. Each evening they were to come
together, and start again in the same fashion
the following morning. Having decided all
this, the ten brothers took their departure
at once.
“ In the meantime the woman waited for
their return to kill them, but they did not
come. She grew more and more impatient
and finally realized that they must have
run away. Raising her skirts up to her
70
WINNEBAGO STORIES
WINNEBAGO WHIPS
Many of the Winnebago whips were used by the Indians as
weapons of defense. Sometimes these whips were made from the
arm bone of an enemy
knees to enable her to run freely, she took
an elkhorn war club and gave chase, mut¬
tering all the while threats that they should
not escape her. She ran over the single
trail to the place where they always had
separated, and, sure enough, there were their
TEN BROTHERS AND THE STRANGE SISTER 71
trails leading in different directions. Taking
up one of the trails, she rapidly followed it.
“The brothers had traveled ever so far,
and were coming together for the night
when the woman finally came in sight of
them. As she ran, she called to them, ‘You
*
might as well give up, for I will overtake
you no matter where you go.’
“‘Brothers,’ said the eldest one, ‘it is
going to be very difficult, so come together
here.’ And as they came into a group,
Ku-nu, the eldest brother, exerted himself
and changed them all into buffaloes, and
they started to run on again. As they ran
they mingled with other buffaloes which
were running wild, and these animals soon
got tired and stopped. But the brothers
continued to run on for a great distance
until they were tired of being buffaloes,
when once more they ran on as people.
Even then the woman gained upon them.
“The second brother then called them
together, and this time they ran away as a
herd of moose, mingling with other wild
72
WINNEBAGO STORIES
moose to cover their tracks. After a time
the third brother exerted himself, and they
were turned into bears and then, of course,
ran through thick timber and brush land as
bears are wont to do. The fourth brother
helped them to run as black-tailed deer,
and then, as each brother in turn exerted
himself, they ran as different animals.
“But the woman gained upon them con¬
stantly until each one of the brothers save
the tenth had tried his power. Then the
eldest cried, ‘Oh, little brother, I beseech
you to try to do something to help us!’
“So the little brother, by whistling, ‘Bob-
white, bobwhite,’ changed the brothers into
a flock of quail, and thus they flew off.
But the eldest brother was heavy and had
to run for some distance before he was able
to rise from the ground, and the woman
nearly caught him.
“They flew for a long way until finally
they alighted in a very tall tree on top of
a high cliff. There they were resting in the
branches when the woman came up and
TEN BROTHERS AND THE STRANGE SISTER 73
struck the tree with such force that they
nearly dropped off. This she continued to
do until the eldest brother again appealed
to the youngest to try to do something, so
the youngest brother began to whistle again,
‘Bobwhite, bobwhite, bobwhite, bobwhite.’
At the fourth whistle there appeared in
the west a dark cloud. Before long there
came a heavy storm with lightnings and
thunders, and the lightning or thunder birds
struck the woman dead, thus saving the
ten brothers.
“Coming down from the tree, they
started back for their home and, though it
was a great distance away, finally reached
it safely. There they held a council, and
the eldest brother said, ‘Well, brothers, we
came here on earth to enjoy its food, and
we have had our fill so far as meat is con¬
cerned, but as yet we have tasted little of
the vegetation, so let us henceforth go out
as beings which eat such things.’
“And they started forth in the form of
different animals. The eldest brother was
74
WINNEBAGO STORIES
a buffalo, the second was a moose, the third
was a bear, the fourth was a black-tailed
deer, each brother taking the form of one
of the animals they had been when they
fled. The youngest brother went forth as a
quail, and even to this day the Indians say
that it is a sure sign of rain when a quail
whistles. And the fact that the eldest
brother was not able to rise quickly from
the ground, but ran so far before flying, is
the reason given for quail sometimes run¬
ning so far before they begin to fly.”
CO-NO, THE SPIRIT OF GAMBLING
“Now, grandsons,’’ said Bear Chief, as
the boys came again for their evening story,
“I have decided to tell you tonight about
Co-no, who was an evil spirit. There are
many kinds of evil spirits and you will
come to know them as you grow older.
Some people do not call them ‘evil spirits,’
but ‘bad habits’ instead.
“The Great Spirit created the earth and
all things, and when this was finished he
then created man. But this man he found
to be imperfect and not made as he should
be, so he cast him aside to the north, as
imperfect or unfinished. The Great Spirit
then made man as he is today and found
him satisfactory. The man first created and
cast aside, however, did not die, but lived
on, and this imperfect being, created by the
Great Spirit, became the source of all evil.
“After a time some evil things began to
appear among the people, and one of them
75
76
WINNEBAGO STORIES
An Indian
medicine
pouch
decorated
with
beads
came in the form of a man, and
was named Co-no. This Co-no
lived on the earth and went about
among the Indians, gambling
with them at whatever game they
could play. Because he was a
powerful spirit, he won from
them their wampum and other
possessions. There came at last a
time when he had won all their
smaller possessions from them,
so that the people did not know
what else to put up as stakes in
their games. Then Co-no sug¬
gested to them that he was will¬
ing to play them for their rights
in all the things that grew upon
Mother Earth, such as squashes,
corn, beans, and all other vege¬
tables, also the fruits and trees,
as well as the animals. In fact,
he would play for all the things
of the earth which were of benefit
to the Indians.
CO-NO, THE SPIRIT OF GAMBLING 77
“So, hoping to win back from him some
of the things they had lost, the people con¬
sented to play with him again. Co-no thus
began to win from them the necessities of
life. First they lost the corn, which was
their main food ; then the squashes and
beans and the fruits; and finally all the
fishes of the waters and the smaller animals
like the muskrats, rabbits, beavers, fawns,
and so on, even to the larger animals like
the deer, antelopes, moose, buffaloes. Thus
Co-no won from them, one at a time, the
things of the earth until he had won even
all the trees, and there was nothing left
save the people themselves.
“Next Co-no offered to play for the
women. So, in hope of winning back the
things they had lost, and because they had
nothing upon which to exist, neither food,
clothing, firewood, bark or skins for shelter,
nor any other thing except their own bodies,
the men consented, and once more the game
was started. The men put forth their utter¬
most efforts, but Co-no began to win, and
78
WINNEBAGO STORIES
by the end of the fourth day he had won
all the women of the people, thus leaving
only the men, who knew not what to do.
“Then Co-no began to gather his win¬
nings together, and he took all the corn
that grew on the earth and put it into one
small field by his lodge in order to guard
it, and he did likewise with all the other
things. He took all the maples and other
sap-bearing trees and made one large tree
out of them, from which the sap flowed in
a thick syrup. Then he took all the women
and girls and made them into one beautiful
woman whom he took as his wife to keep
house for him. Thus lived Co-no with all
the earthly things, which he guarded so
closely that the men began to suffer and
to starve.
“It was then that some of the good
spirits, aware of these conditions, decided
to help their people. So he who is known
as the Rabbit, the son of the Great Spirit,
with the Turtle, called Kae-cha-gae-ga, the
Thunder, Ha-shootch-ga, and Red Horn,
CO-NO, THE SPIRIT OF GAMBLING 79
Wak-jon-ka-gah, another son of the Great
Spirit, as well as many other powerful and
good spirits, came among the people as
human beings and challenged Co-no to a
game. Co-no wondered what they had to
play for. When he asked them, they replied
Woven bags made by the Indians
that inasmuch as he had won all they had
save their bodies, they would therefore put
up themselves, for there was no use of
living on. And they said that, should he
win, they would become his slaves. At this
Co-no was much delighted. They therefore
set a day for the game.
“When the day for the game arrived,
the Rabbit and his allies, with all the
people, were there on one side, and Co-no
80
WINNEBAGO STORIES
and his allies, the evil spirits, or bad habits,
were arrayed on the other side. Co-no sug¬
gested that they play the ‘Jack-straw’ game.
This is the game, you know, my grandsons,
where we drop down a handful of sticks
and then force a pointed stick down through
the middle of the pile to divide out an odd
or an even number.
“When all was ready the sticks were
dropped, and Co-no was the first to play.
He had brought the Partridge to do the
playing for him. The Partridge, instead of
using a pointed stick as is usual, forced his
bill down through the center of the pile and
separated out an even number. But the
Turtle, who was there aiding his people,
took such a long, deep breath that he drew
one of the sticks away, making an odd
number for the Partridge and Co-no. Great
was their surprise and disappointment at
this, for they had never failed to make
their point before.
“It was then the people’s turn to play,
so the Rabbit brought forth an extremely
CO-NO, THE SPIRIT OF GAMBLING 81
tall blue Crane with a very long bill to
divide the sticks for him. The Crane stepped
up and forced his long bill down through
the center of the sticks, dividing out an even
dozen. Thus the first day of the game was
one of victory for the people, and they
went home with a great many of their
former possessions. Now Co-no was very
anxious for another game, so another day
to play was set.
“On the day set for the second game, all
the good spirits and the bad ones, too, came
again. Co-no wanted to play the game of
‘Stare,’ in which the opponents must sit and
stare at each other with wide-open eyes. The
people drew aside to counsel together, for
they were sure that Co-no would use the
Owl, who could keep his eyes open without
blinking longer than any other being in the
world. And they were in doubt as to whom
they could use that would stand such a
long strain of staring. Finally the Thunder,
Ha-shootch-ga, who was there to help, said
that if anyone could stand it for half a
82
WINNEBAGO STORIES
day, or until noon, then he could exert
himself to overcome their opponent. Then
Wak-jon-ka-gah spoke up and said he could
stand it until the middle of the day. The
Thunder being told Wak-jon-ka-gah to stir
in his seat as soon as he grew tired after
the middle of the day. This would be a
signal for help. Thus prepared, they arrayed
the combatants in the game.
“As had been expected, Co-no brought
forth the Owl as his gamester. The oppo¬
nents sat staring at each other all the fore
part of the day without ever closing their
eyes or winking even the least little bit,
until a little after noon, when Wak-jon-ka-
gah shifted around in his seat. Co-no’s
followers, taking this as a sign of weakness,
sent up a shout of joy. It was then that
the Thunder being exerted his power, and
by shooting a raindrop into the Owl’s eye
made him wink. All the people sent up a
great shout of joy, for they had won the
day. Co-no disputed the fairness of this
act on the part of the Thunder being, but
CO-NO, THE SPIRIT OF GAMBLING 83
the Turtle, who was very talkative, finally
convinced him that Wak-jon-ka-gah really
had won.
“Again the happy people went home, this
time bearing a great many more of their
former possessions. And then, as was to be
expected, Co-no challenged them to another
game on the morrow.
“Upon arriving at their home, the Rabbit
and his friends planned the morrow’s game,
finally deciding to play it in the lodge of
the Forked Man, which stood within a large
hill. This Forked Man, who was clever and
powerful, was so named because he had two
bodies on one pair of legs. These bodies
were complete, each with a pair of arms
and a head.
“The Rabbit and his friends told the
Forked Man to stay away from home so
that they might go into his lodge to play.
They also instructed him to come home
late in the afternoon and to pretend to be
very angry at the players for entering his
home. Now this was all so planned because
84
WINNEBAGO STORIES
Co-no was a very clever and powerful
being, and his opponents wanted the game
to be broken up before it was finished.
“The next day, according to their plans,
Co-no was asked to come and play the
game at the lodge of the Forked Man. To
this he agreed, and soon after his arrival
the bets were all placed and the gambling
began.
“‘Peg’ was the game. They used a
small, four-sided peg numbered on each side
and with pointed ends, so that when it was
struck with a stick it would fly up. When
it fell the number on the side that was up
counted points for the one that had struck
the peg. It was an exciting game, and
Co-no and his opponents played and played,
sometimes losing and sometimes winning.
The game was at a winning point for the
Rabbit and his friends when the Forked
Man returned. As soon as he came in he
yelled at them very angrily, brandishing a
huge club, and asking who gave them per¬
mission to gamble in his lodge. Finally he
CO-NO, THE SPIRIT OF GAMBLING 85
ordered them all out. This confusion and
excitement gave the Rabbit and his friends
an opportunity to grab the stakes and run
away. Thus they overcame Co-no for the
third time.
“They had now won back everything
but the woman, and the Rabbit decided to
try his arts in winning her away from
Co-no. He went to her while Co-no was
away and courted her, but she would not
listen to him. A second and third time he
went, but was still unsuccessful. So the
fourth time he dressed himself up and
changed his features until he looked exactly
like Co-no. Then he went and hid near
the lodge. Soon Co-no left, but not with¬
out first cautioning his wife against the
wiles of the Rabbit.
“Co-no had no more than gone out of
sight when the Rabbit went into the lodge,
but the woman thought it was her husband.
Imitating the voice of Co-no, the Rabbit
said, ‘ In afterthought I decided to come
back and get you, for this Rabbit is really
86
WINNEBAGO STORIES
A group of elks
very clever, and he might deceive you some
way. So you had better come with me.’
The woman, thinking it was Co-no, got
ready and followed him away.
“This was how the wily Rabbit and his
allies won back the woman from Co-no.
Everything else, as you know, had already
been won back and distributed among
the people.”
CO-NO, THE SPIRIT OF GAMBLING
87
XYl th€ fOTCSt Courtesy Field Museum of Natural History
“Wasn’t there any trouble when the things
were distributed, Bear Chief?” asked Little
Turtle. “Did everyone get just what he
had had before?”
“Well, now, there was some trouble, I
remember, for it was then that the Elk
lost his front teeth; you know, he has none
now in his upper jaw. He was greedy and
wanted some things different from what
88
WINNEBAGO STORIES
they had been before. Among other foolish
ideas, he thought he would like to eat the
flesh of man. So the Rabbit went out and
gathered some very sour berries, the juice
of which he offered to the Elk, saying, ‘If
you wish to make the flesh of human beings
your food through life, here is some of
their blood. Try it.’ When the Elk drank
the juice, it knocked out all of his front
teeth, so he decided not to eat human
flesh, as even the blood was too strong.
Those teeth have never grown back in.
Courtesy Field Museum of Natural History
A family of black bears
CO-NO, THE SPIRIT OF GAMBLING 89
“And the Bear had consented to give
his flesh for human food, but he wanted no
daylight, but night all the time. Then when
the people wanted any of his meat to eat all
they would need to do would be to reach out
into the dark behind their lodge seats and
drag him forth, pulling him by the hair. But
the councilors said, ‘Not so, Bear! You are
too bad tempered to endure that very long.’
“But at last things got distributed among
the people about as we have them today,
but even now Co-no gambles with us through
our own laziness, waste, and other bad habits.”
“That was a good story, Bear Chief,”
said Red Bird. “I well understand why
everyone says you are the best story-teller
among our people.”
“But you must not forget, boys,”
reminded Bear Chief, “that often the bad
spirits are in our own hearts and, unless we
are watchful and strong-hearted, they will
make us do bad things. We must learn to
do only what the good spirits tell us.
Good night, grandsons.”
THE MOONS
“Bear Chief, please tell us another story,”
begged Green Crow. “You see, we have
brought a great pile of wood for the fire
tonight, and today while we were hunting
along the creek we gathered willow bark for
you to dry and make into kinnikinnick to
smoke during the long days of winter. Will
you tell us how the months were made?”
“Well, well, my grandsons,” the old
man answered, as he looked into the eager
faces of Green Crow, Little Turtle, Red
Bird, and Flying Cloud, “I thought every
boy knew all about that.”
“We think we do know,” piped up Little
Turtle, “but we want to hear your story,
and then we will be sure we are right.
We’ll be quiet while you tell us.”
“Ho! Ho! Ho! It certainly looks as
though I could not get out of it this time.
This is the way my grandfather told me
the story.
90
THE MOONS
91
“A long, long time ago the good spirits
and the bad ones divided things among
themselves, but sometimes they did not
agree, for the evil spirits wanted too much;
they were selfish. One day they all held a
council to decide how long the seasons
should be. The Wild Turkey strutted out
before all the others, spreading his tail
feathers. He said that the year should have
as many moons in it as there were spots
on his tail feathers.
“But the councilors said that would be
much too long. Then the Partridge strutted
out as had the Turkey, and wanted as many
moons, or months, as there were spots in
his tail. But the spirits said that his tail
was too large, also, and had too many
spots.
“Then the little Chipmunk ran out into
a sunny spot among them. When he talked
he squealed with his funny little voice, and
each time he squealed he jerked his tail up
over his back, just as chipmunks always
do. He wasn’t really bragging, but you
92
WINNEBAGO STORIES
Notice the stripes on the hack of the little chipmunk. He has
six yellowish-white stripes and six black ones — as many as there
are months in the year
could see that he was just a little proud of
his shiny coat, his bushy tail, and the
handsome stripes along his back. In his
squeaky little voice he suggested that every
year have as many moons as there were
stripes on his back. There were, as you
well know, six yellowish-white stripes and
six black ones. The councilors said they
THE MOONS
93
guessed that it would be about right to
have twelve moons, or months, every year,
and that the white stripes could be the
winter months, and the black stripes the
summer months.
“Now which one of you boys is sure he
can name for me the first three months of
our summer?”
“I can,” sang out Little Turtle, as he
began to count on his fingers. “First comes
the Planting Moon, Wo-ju-je-we-ra, when
the women and girls plant the seeds of
corn, squash, and all the other good things.
The white men call this moon May. Then
comes — ”
“Oh, but we also call that moon My-ta-
woos-we-ra, the Drying Moon,” interrupted
Green Crow. “Don’t you know, that’s when
all the rain and the water from the melting
snow is dried up?”
“You keep still, Green Crow,” cried
Little Turtle, “you will get your turn. I
was just going to say that after the Plant¬
ing Moon comes the month when the corn
94
WINNEBAGO STORIES
must be hoed and when the strawberries
are red. June is not near so good a name
for it as My-ra-oon-we-ra. And then comes
the hot month when the chokeberries are
ripe in the woods, when the wild geese
drop their feathers, which we find floating
along the lake, and when the corn grows
its plumes or tassels. And I know its
name, Wixo-tee-ra.”
Here Bear Chief held up his hand for
order, for each of the other boys wanted to
name the rest of the moons. “Red Bird,’’
said he, “you name the other three black
stripes of the chipmunk’s back, which are
also summer months.”
“The fourth moon,” said Red Bird, “is
We-ta-jox-he-we-ra. This is when we roast
the ears of corn over the fire, and when we
have our feasts, and open the Sacred
Bundles and pray for good health and
peace.”
“That is right — very good,” nodded Bear
Chief. “And what do we call the time
when the rice is laid up to dry?”
THE MOONS
95
“Oh, that is Psin-na-ke-tu-we-ra. The
white people call it September, and it has
many other names. If you had asked me
when the bobolinks and blackbirds were
getting ready to fly away for winter, I
would have said, Ho-zaza-kay-we-ra. Or I
might have told you it was the moon,
called Ho-wy-zhook-we-ra, when the elk
calls through the woods for his mate. And
then comes the most pleasant moon of all,
the Indian summer. It’s not too hot then,
nor too cold. The fishing and hunting are
good, and the smoke of the camp fire
makes a blue haze wherever you look. It
is Cha-my-na-xo-we-ra, the Deer-digging
Moon.”
Nowr all the boys tried to speak at once.
“All right, Little Turtle,” said Bear
Chief, “you show us whether or not you
know the first three white stripes of the
Chipmunk, the winter months.”
“Cha-kee-roo-xay-we-ra,” replied Little
Turtle, “is the month when the deer mate
and when all the corn, squashes, beans,
96
WINNEBAGO STORIES
dried berries, and roots of the sweet flag
and water lily are put away for the winter.
That is the moon when we move into our
warm and snug winter lodges.
A WINNEBAGO CALENDAR STICK AND
FAMILY AGE RECORD
The notches on the front of the stick
represent moons, or months; those on
the sides, years. Some Indians cut the
yearly notch when the first thunder of the
season was heard.
Sometimes four or six-sided sticks were
used, one side being used for each member
of the family. These calendar or record
sticks were handed down from one gen¬
eration to another.
“Then comes Cha-hayo-wak-sho-we-ra,
when the deer shed their antlers. In this
month comes the white man’s Christmas, but
I like it because the hunters come in with fat
venison and bear and elk, and the women
make warm winter clothes from the furs, tan¬
ning them with the brains of the animals.
THE MOONS
97
“And the next white stripe on the Chip¬
munk’s back is Honch-we-cho-nee-we-ra,
when the young bears are born. Sometimes
we call it We-ter-i-we-ra, the hard or cold
month.”
“That was well done, my son, and you
must remember that when the young bears
are born we who are members of the Bear
clan have our big feast in honor of the Bear
Spirit. We cover our faces with charcoal
to show our humility, and ask him to pro¬
tect the women and children, to bring us
plenty of game for our hunters, and, should
we be attacked, to make our weapons sharp
for our defense.
“And now you are last, Flying Cloud.
See if you can name the other three moons
of the year.”
“The other boys had the easy ones,”
answered he, “but I can do my part just
as well as they did. The fourth white
stripe of the Chipmunk’s back is for Honch-
we-ra-gnee-ra, the second Bear Moon, and
the next stripe is for the Raccoon Moon,
98
WINNEBAGO STORIES
Wa-kay-kee-roo-xay-we-ra, when the trappers
get most of their skins, and the young
people make love to each other. And the
last moon is the time when the wild geese
have returned and are laying their eggs.
We do not call it April but a much better
name, Ho-ro-gee-nah-we-ra.”
“That was good, my son. You have
said nothing while the other boys wanted
to talk, and this shows that you have
learned a valuable lesson — to say little and
to think a great deal.
“Before we let the fire burn down, I’ll
tell you all why there is a large full moon
every month and why it gets smaller.
When the moon is full, the evil spirits
begin to nibble at it, to put out its light,
for evil spirits like the darkness best. Each
night they eat away a part of the moon,
until in two weeks it is almost gone. But
the Great Spirit will not permit them to
take advantage of the darkness to go about
the world doing mischief, so he makes a
new moon. He makes a little of it each
THE MOONS
99
night for the next two weeks until finally
a big new moon hangs in the sky again.
Then he rests, and the evil spirits begin all
over again.
“Boys, our wood is all burned up, and
out in that big oak tree I hear the owl
calling. Listen! Hear that ‘Who-o-o-o!
Who-o-o-o!’ It is time for us all to go
to sleep. Good night, my sons. Come
again tomorrow night for another story.”
“We’ll surely do that, Bear Chief,” the
boys called as they left his lodge. “Good
night.”
THE ORIGIN OF CORN
The day following the story of the moons
the boys went out with their bows and arrows
to while away the long day, for they could
hardly wait for the next story that Bear
Chief had promised them. They went down
to the ravine to see if Green Crow’s arrow
was still caught in the big elm tree. If the
arrow was there they would try to shoot it
down. They chatted merrily as they went
along, and soon reached the place. Sure
enough, the arrow was still there, lodged
up in the branches of the big tree. Then
the boys began to shoot at the arrow in
an effort to dislodge it. It was such great
fun that the boys lost all sense of time,
and it was nearly noon when Little Turtle
finally hit the arrow and brought it to the
ground. But he had shot with such force
that he had cracked the point of the arrow
and thus had made it useless for further
shooting.
100
Little Turtle shooting at the arrow lodged in the big elm tree
102
WINNEBAGO STORIES
“I just know that Little Turtle broke
my arrow on purpose, because it was such
a good one and so well feathered that when
he wanted to trade one of his poor arrows
for it I refused him,” complained Green
Crow. But Little Turtle replied that if
Green Crow’s arrow was such a good one
he, himself, ought to have shot it down
long before.
By this time the boys’ stomachs were
beginning to call for food, so they idled
along toward camp, playing that familiar
old game of Indian boys of seeing how
many shots it took to shoot their way back.
Before they parted for their different lodges
Green Crow said, “ I wonder what story
Bear Chief will tell us tonight.”
‘‘I don’t know,” replied Flying Cloud,
“but he said it would be a good one, so I
am satisfied.” And he started for his father’s
lodge, while the other boys also went their
separate ways.
That evening four expectant and eager
boys were headed for Bear Chief’s lodge.
THE ORIGIN OF CORN
103
Green Crow led the way, for their many
visits had given him much courage.
“Ho, ho,” Bear Chief greeted them from
his usual place as they entered and took
their seats. “Well, grandsons, how did you
spend the day?”
“We were very busy, Bear Chief,”
answered Flying Cloud. “Do you remem¬
ber the first day you asked us to fast for
a story?”
“Yes,” answered Bear Chief.
“Well, that day Green Crow lodged one
of his arrows in a tree, and today we went
to shoot it down. The time went so fast
that it was late in the afternoon before we
got home, and we certainly were hungry.”
“And that corn my mother gave me for
supper surely was good,” added Red Bird.
“Corn, corn,” said Bear Chief. “That
is what I am going to tell you about this
evening, grandsons, and I am glad Red
Bird mentioned it, for I am going to begin
my story now. Cc orn is one of the most
wonderful gifts made to the Indian race
104
WINNEBAGO STORIES
by the Great Spirit. Almost all Indian
tribes have some beautiful legend about it,
the legends varying with each tribe] I
shall tell you the legend as it is told by
our own people, the Winnebagoes.
“In one of my other stories I told you
about how the evil spirits have always
worked against human beings, and about
how the good spirits have
always helped the people.
After one of these periods
of great warfare between
the good and evil spirits,
in which the evil ones
were defeated and over¬
come, the good spirits went
about to organize a lodge,
or society, known as the
Sacred Medicine Lodge.
You will learn much more
about this society as you
grow older.
“The good spirits all
met together and each one
THE ORIGIN OF CORN
105
contributed some good thing or some power
to aid the people in overcoming bad things.
And it is said that it was at this large gather¬
ing that the great Mother Earth came as a
woman. After each spirit had made its gift,
it came the turn of Mother Earth to con¬
tribute hers. She stepped forth and addressed
the leading spirit, saying, ‘Look, grandson,
look upon my breast.’ And as the chief
spirit looked, there sprang forth from the
breast of Mother Earth a plant which grew
bigger and higher. Then there came forth
leaves and tassels, and an ear of corn, all
ripe and ready to eat, formed on its stalk.
‘This, grandson,’ she said, ‘I give to your
people that they may use it as food as
long as they exist.’
“All the spirits present responded, ‘Ho,
ho, ho! Great Mother Earth, you have con¬
tributed one of the most important foods
of the human race.’
“Now, boys,” said Bear Chief, “I have
told you the legend of the origin of
Indian corn, or maize as our people call
106
WINNEBAGO STORIES
it, but I wonder if any of you know how
it is preserved to keep for a long time.”
“I do!” cried Green Crow. “My mother
boils the ears in a large kettle when it is
just coming out of the roasting-ear stage.
Then she shells it off from the cob and
dries it in the sun.”
‘‘That’s quite right, Green Crow. Now,
Red Bird, do you know of another way?”
asked Bear Chief.
‘‘Yes, Bear Chief. My mother boils the
hardened kernels of the corn in hard-wood
ashes until the little skins, or hulls, come
off. Then she cleans it and boils it over
into a nice hominy.”
‘‘You, too, are right, Red Bird. Now-
let us hear from Little Turtle.”
‘‘Well, I saw my mother once roast the
corn and then dry it and put it away,”
said Little Turtle.
‘‘Now, Flying Cloud, let’s hear from
you.”
‘‘Well, last roasting-ear time my father
dug a deep pit in the earth about up to
THE ORIGIN OF CORN
107
his shoulders and about
as wide as twice the
length of my little bow.
Then we all went out
and gathered many
stones and much wood.
And then we gathered
a lot of corn and piled
it by the pit. What fun
we had husking the corn!
My father braided a
long whip for me out
of the green husks.
“When all the corn was husked and
ready, my father built a terribly hot fire
in the pit and threw in the stones on top
of the fire. When the stones were red hot
he picked out all the stubs of the wood
which had not burned up. Then he placed
a layer of green husks over the hot stones,
and upon the husks he piled the corn and
then another layer of husks. Through the
layers of husks he made holes all along
the edge of the pit in line with the four
A wooden mortar and pestle
made by Indians
108
WINNEBAGO STORIES
directions of the compass, north, east, west,
and south, with another hole in the center.
Then he made us sit down while he poured
water into the holes, for he said it was the
custom to do so. Oh, what a great, roar¬
ing sound the steam made when it blew off
through the holes! And my father said,
‘Ho, our champion has come,’ just as is
always said at that time.
“After the water had been poured in,
my father hurriedly covered the whole pit
with dirt. It was customary, he told us,
to open the pit before sunrise the next
morning. So we did this, and oh, how
delicious the corn was! I just could not
get enough of it. But we had to shell it
off from the cobs with clam shells and
spread it out on rush mattings to dry in
the sun.”
“Grandson, you have just related in full
one of the oldest methods of drying corn;
it was done in this way long before we
were able to get the white man’s kettles
to use.
THE ORIGIN OF CORN
109
“Now, boys, it is growing late, and we
must all get to bed. I must urge you
again to dwell upon these stories in your
minds, so that you may remember them
a long, long time.”
“Don’t worry, Bear Chief, we’ll surely
do that,” put in Little Turtle.
“Good for you, Little Turtle. I’m sure
you will be a great man some day. Good
night.”
THE QUARREL ABOUT A NAME
One morning not long after this Flying
Cloud was up bright and early. It was his
habit to be up early, for his father was a
chief, or leader, of the tribe and saw to it
that the boy should be an example for all
other boys. But Flying Cloud was still
only a boy, and his father had not yet
taught him many of the small things a
man should know. So he could hardly be
blamed for getting into a quarrel with
Green Crow over whose name was the best.
This is how it came about.
The four boys were roaming about the
woods that morning, learning to read all
the signs to be found there by sharp eyes.
There were tracks in the soft mud near the
springs of water, where the animals had
come during the night to drink. There
were tramped -down places in the thickets
where the rabbits ran. There were fresh
scratchings at old rotten logs where skunks
no
THE QUARREL ABOUT A NAME
111
had hunted for beetles and the large white
grubs in the wood. And there were many
places where foxes had tried to dig out wood¬
chucks from their burrows. Fresh scratches
on one tree told that some large animal
had tried to crawl up in a hurry. The boys
thought it must have been a porcupine.
As they were looking for the porcupine
they saw a crow’s nest in the top branches
of this big oak. Thinking that perhaps
The hoys saw a crow's nest in the top of a big oak tree and
began to shoot into it
112
WINNEBAGO STORIES
Mr. Porcupine might be fast asleep in the
crow’s nest, they began to shoot into it.
But no “porky” was there, and no crows.
Flying Cloud it was who shot away the
last twigs of the nest. And as he did so he
said, “Let it go, fellows. It is only a
crow’s nest, and I for one don’t like crows
anyhow.”
“Do you mean me? My name is
Crow,” snapped Green Crow. “A crow is
just as good as a cloud, any time.”
“But my name is a chief’s name, and
is much better than yours ever can be,”
retorted Flying Cloud.
Thus they quarreled back and forth
until they almost came to blows. Little
Turtle and Red Bird grew tired of their
foolish, angry talk, and to put a stop to it
they interfered.
“Oh, come on back to camp,” they said,
“and tell your troubles to Bear Chief. He
knows all about names, and he knows
whose name is best. If one of us is a
Cloud, another a Turtle, and two of us are
THE QUARREL ABOUT A NAME 113
named after birds, there must be a reason.
Let’s find out and stop quarreling about it.”
Flying Cloud readily agreed to this
plan, but Green Crow objected, just as he
usually did to anything anybody else sug¬
gested. He always was sure he knew and
was right, even if he wasn’t. But at last
he agreed, and the four boys turned their
steps homeward. They found Bear Chief
stretching over a willow frame the skin of
a beaver he had caught the night before.
“Ho, ho, ho, grandsons. I was just
thinking about you, and wondering what
mischief you might be in this time. This
beaver skin made me think about the story
of the Otter and the Beaver. But first tell
me what brings you here so early in the
day.”
Neither Green Crow nor Flying Cloud
wanted to tell about their quarrel, but
Little Turtle quickly told the chief what
the trouble was.
“Now isn’t my name just as good as
Flying Cloud’s?” whined Green Crow.
8
WINNEBAGO STORIES
m&xw.: r>
114
“Your name is just as good as you
make it. You can make it a good name
or you can make it one to be ashamed of,”
slowly answered the old man. “Have you
not yet learned how we all get our names?”
“No, we have not, and I for one would
certainly like to know,” said Red Bird
looking at the other boys, who nodded in
assent.
“Come to my lodge this evening, grand¬
sons, and I’ll tell you what your names
mean. But it is a sacred story, and we
must have plenty of wood to make enough
smoke. The good spirits, who will also be
listening, will feel honored by the smoke.
And you boys must end your quarreling,
for many a worthy matter has been ruined
by a quarrel between friends.”
The boys felt better by this time, for
they had told their troubles to some one
else. As they left, they all wanted to rub
their hands on the beaver skin and admire
it, and they wondered what Bear Chief
planned to use it for. Soon they had
THE QUARREL ABOUT A NAME 115
stacked up a large pile of wood, enough to
make smoke for many, many spirits, or
maybe to last Bear Chief over several
evenings. And they noticed that as soon
as Green Crow had something else to do
and to think about, he forgot to be sulky.
It was still only dusk when the boys
made their way to Bear Chief’s lodge.
Clouds of gnats danced before their faces,
overhead a nighthawk circled in search of
his supper, and off in the woods a screech
owl cried out in his loneliness. In the dried
leaves near at hand faint rustlings told
that the smaller prowlers were stirring. But
in his lodge the old story-teller had a
bright fire blazing, and awaited them at the
far side of his hearth.
“Grandsons,” said he, “I am glad to
see you happier than you were this morn¬
ing; this is as it should be. As for the
story, I had planned to tell you about the
Otter and the Beaver, but that can wait for
another time. This evening you want to
learn about your names.
116
WINNEBAGO STORIES
Bennett photograph
Ku-nu, the eldest son , and Hi-nuf the eldest daughter , of a
Winnebago family
“First, there are the birth names, which
are the same in all families of the Winne¬
bago tribe. The first male child, or boy,
is always called Ku-nu. And, since four is
the sacred number with us, there are four
names, in this order: Ku-nu, He-nu, Ha-ga,
and Nan-xi. And the four names for the
daughters are: Hi-nu, Wi-ha, Ak-sia-ga, and
Hi-nunka.
THE QUARREL ABOUT A NAME
117
“If there should be more than four
boys, the fifth one would be Nan-xi’s little
brother, or Little Nan-xi, the sixth would
be the little brother of the fifth, or Little,
Little Nan-xi, and the seventh would be
the little brother of the sixth, and the
eighth would have still another ‘little’
added to his name, or something which
means the same.
“And if there should be more than four
sisters, they would all be little sisters of
the fourth, named as the boys were. The
fifth would thus be Little Hi-nunka, the
sixth would be Little, Little Hi-nunka,
and the others would have more and more
‘littles’ added to the Hi-Nunka.
“The second system of naming is by the
clans, or groups of families. The Great
Spirit has seen fit to create many different
peoples in different places, who like differ¬
ent things and speak different languages.
So it is with us. He has given to some of
us a love for the woods, to others a love
for the lakes and waters. We think the
118
WINNEBAGO STORIES
most about the things we know the best,
and we express our thoughts with the aid
of those things we have known from child¬
hood. It was believed by our forefathers
that when the Great Spirit created the
earth and all the things that are on it he
also created the people and told them that
they were to live upon it. And as it was
very necessary to distinguish between one
another, we were to choose some animal or
bird or creature of the waters for which to
name ourselves. So each of us is named,
you see, after some color or habit of our clan
namesake. One of you boys is ‘Little
Turtle,’ one is ‘Red Bird,’ another ‘Green
Crow,’ and one is ‘Flying Cloud.’
“The clans which are named after the
things of the earth or of the waters are
known as the lower clans. Those named
after the birds or the thunder are the upper
clans. And each clan has some particular
work to do in the tribe. Some are chiefs,
others are warriors, runners, or heralds, but
none is greater than another. A thunder
A Winnebago chief with his son and daughter.
They are all in buckskin holiday dress
120
WINNEBAGO STORIES
clansman can be named ‘Flying Cloud,’
you see. I, myself, am Bear Chief, of the
Bear clan.
“No one name can be greater than any
other, and I am very glad that the quarrel
among you has passed without any further
trouble, and that you came to me to get
the true story about your names. But here
is another way of naming people, and I
warn you that there one name may mean
more than another. You must be careful,
for each of you will earn the name that
you get.
“Should an enemy come by surprise and
attack the village, each warrior is expected
to spring to action and defend his people.
Should he overcome his enemy or by some
other worthy act defend his people, then
he is entitled to choose for himself some
name fitting or appropriate to his deed.
The people will thereafter respect this name
and the man who earns it, and he will be
honored in the ceremonies and councils of
his tribe.
THE QUARREL ABOUT A NAME 121
“And now, grandsons, heed carefully the
fourth kind of a name you may be given.
Should you be lazy and worthless, with no
ambition or aim in life, or should you be a
coward or a thief or a liar, or should you
be boastful in telling of your deeds, the
people will soon learn your fault. The
women and children will call you by your
birth name, but will add to it the word for
your bad habit. This name will follow you
to your grave, and you will be known as
‘Ku-nu the Coward,’ or ‘He-nu the Boaster,’
or perhaps something worse. And even
though you may change your wrong ways
and correct your bad habit, yet will the
bad name always stay yours. So, grand¬
sons, watch out. Be careful that no such
disgrace comes to you.
“As I have said before, we are a people
who speak by means of stories. As you go
on through life, when you sit by your
lodge fires on such evenings as this you will
hear in your memories the voice of Bear
Chief telling these stories. But now it is
122
WINNEBAGO STORIES
getting late, and I am sure we do not want
to be called ‘Nighthawks,’ so we must all
get to bed.”
“Bear Chief, before we go I want to
thank you for your story,” said Green
Crow. “I shall not boast after this that
my name is better than that of some one
else, as I did this morning.”
“Neither shall I,” added Flying Cloud.
“Nor I,” “Nor I,” put in the other boys.
“That is good, grandsons. Don’t forget
to come tomorrow night for the story of the
Otter and the Beaver. Good night.”
THE OTTER AND THE BEAVER
On the day after the boys had quarreled
and had heard Bear Chief’s story about
their names, they spent most of their time
at home helping their mothers. It was
such a fine day that Flying Cloud’s mother
took advantage of it to tan a deerskin
she had been keeping for just such weather.
The hair of the deerskin she had taken
off before by rubbing over it a paste of
wood ashes and water, and then scraping
it with the sharp edge of a clam shell.
Today she was rubbing off the flesh and
fat from the inside of the skin, and knead¬
ing into it on both sides the brains of the
deer. Flying Cloud had broken open the
deer’s skull with a heavy stone ax and had
taken out the brains, for, you know, the
brains of an animal are said to be the best
means for tanning its skin.
The next step was to make a frame on
which to stretch the hide. Flying Cloud
123
124
WINNEBAGO STORIES
and his mother had gone to the woods and
cut four poles of ash, each one about the
thickness of the boy’s arm and twice as
long. These poles they tied together to
make a square frame, using cords made
out of the strong fibers of the basswood
bark. The frame was a little larger than
the deerskin, but when Flying Cloud’s
mother had punched holes all around the
outer edge of the hide and had begun to
lace it to the frame with strong thongs of
buckskin, the hide slowly stretched until it
nearly filled the frame.
The next process was to take a pole
with a dull, blunt end and rub it back
and forth over the skin, to soften it and
to dry it, all the while rubbing in the deer
brain to tan it into leather. All this was
hard work, so Flying Cloud was a great
help to his mother, while at the same time
he was learning something worth knowing.
Flying Cloud did not see anything of
the other boys until the evening meal was
over. Of course, there was the flesh of the
THE OTTER AND THE BEAVER
125
same deer to be eaten, for his mother had
kept the venison wrapped carefully in green
leaves of the wild sage and sweet flag.
When the boys gathered as usual, only
Little Turtle was absent. But they gave a
few whistles of their whippoorwill signal,
and he came rushing up to the waiting
group. When the boys reached Bear Chief’s
lodge, they found him at his favorite place
by the fire, while Wi-ha, his squaw, was
working with her back to the fire. They
could not see what she was doing and were
too polite to try to find out.
“Well, grandsons, I hope each one of
you has spent the day doing something
useful. It is said by the old people that
he who does not arise with the sun and
take advantage of all the daylight will
soon die, for he does not appreciate light
and life and all they offer.”
So Flying Cloud then told of his share
of the day’s work with his mother. And
Little Turtle explained that he had been
tramping the woods looking for his father’s
126
WINNEBAGO STORIES
lost pony, which he had finally found; that
was the reason he was almost late. Red
Bird said he had helped his mother carry
clothes to the river and beat them with a
stick on a smooth, flat stone. Green Crow,
too, gave a good account of himself, for
he had spent most of the day with his
grandmother looking for herbs for making
Bennett photograph
It was a fine day , so Flying
Cloud and his mother had been
busy tanning a deerskin
Green Crow and his grand¬
mother on their way to gather
herbs to be used for making
medicine
THE OTTER AND THE BEAVER
127
medicine. They had found sarsaparilla,
ginseng, wild garlic, pipsissewa, rosinweed,
and many other herbs.
“Well, well, it is good to hear these
things of you,” said Bear Chief, “for the
story I am going to tell you tonight has
to do with industry and with our ways of
living. You have seen from my stories
that our people, the Winnebagoes, and, in
fact, all other Indians, are great observers
of the animals and birds, and from them
we learn many fine lessons.
“Once, a long time ago, as my grand¬
father used to tell the story, the people
were overcome by evil spirits and mon¬
strous animals. There was sadness and
sorrow over all the earth. Then the Great
Spirit heard the cries of the people and
sent a hero to them to destroy those bad
things. This hero went about over the
earth fighting with all the evil things that
hurt the people. And there came a time
when he was so victorious over all the
great monsters that they would not come
128
WINNEBAGO STORIES
back any more. But the people had lived
so long in evil ways that they had forgot¬
ten how to keep themselves clean and
strong in body and in mind.
“So this hero went about the earth
again to invite all the animals of the land
and the birds of the air and the beings of
the water to come to a great gathering.
At that time they were each to give some
power to make the people better. The
Eagle and the Swan were sent to the upper
regions with this invitation, and the Bear
and the Wolf were sent as runners over the
earth and lower regions. Each went forth
young and in the very prime of life, but
when they returned they were old and
weary. The Eagle and the Swan had lost
the small feathers from their heads and
were bald, while their wing feathers were
so worn and thin that they could hardly
fly. The Bear and the Wolf returned so
old that their fur had all been worn off,
and they came hobbling in with the aid of
cedar staves. They came and stood before
THE OTTER AND THE BEAVER
129
the hero, saying, ‘To this age will the
people come if they receive your teachings
and perform them.’
“After saying this, each one shook him¬
self vigorously and became as he had been
before, young and strong and in the prime
of life. This was to show us that when we
grow old and die, after a life of industry
and usefulness, our souls, or spirits, may
become young again in another life outside
of or beyond the bodies we now have.
“Then all the animals began coming
toward the gathering place, exerting their
best powers in order that the people might
gain some benefit and learn how to lead
better lives. The Otter, with his mate,
started from the seas at the east, and the
Beaver, with his mate, came from the lakes
and rivers of the north. At first they came
under the waters, but, knowing that the
people could not imitate them in this, they
then swam upon the surface. Then they
dived down four times, and each time, as
they came up, there came with them a
130
WINNEBAGO STORIES
Courtesy New York Zoological Society
Otters live in families , and they have taught the Indians
many useful things , for an otter is strong and cunning and has
great courage
young one of their own kind. So there
were four young Otters and four young
Beavers. Finally they all landed on an
island in the great lake where the father
of each family dived back into the water
and brought up a large whitefish to feed
his young. Then all the Otters and Beavers
went on to their destination.
“Grandsons, all this was to teach us
that we should live in families, and that
THE OTTER AND THE BEAVER
131
Courtesy Field Museum of Natural History
Beavers , like otters , live in families. They are wise and
industrious in their ways , and the Indians learned many useful
lessons from them
the mother should care for the young and
that the father should seek food and pro¬
tect his family. Thus do the Otter and
the Beaver teach us, for the Otter is strong,
courageous, and very cunning, while the
Beaver has great wisdom and industry.
You know that he cuts down trees, moves
timbers, and builds dams in the rivers to
make ponds; and that he makes his lodge
out in the deep water, safe from the wolf
132
WINNEBAGO STORIES
and the fox, with his food stored securely
under the water and the ice. Tonight I
have told you of only the Otter and the
Beaver, but as you grow older and have
sharper eyes you will learn the whole story
of what each of the animals did at that
great gathering to help the people to do
better.
“When I was a young boy, my father
trapped and killed a beaver, and after
tanning its hide well my mother made a
nice warm cap for me. And on the eve¬
ning when I was admitted to the lodge fire
of the brave men and boys my father
called me to him, telling me to place more
wood on the fire. Then he asked me to be
seated while he told me this same story I
have told you tonight. With the eyes of
memory I can see it all now: my mother
and my father sitting beside the lodge fire
just as we are sitting here. And just so
you shall see me in your memories in after
years. And whenever you see a beaver
brought into camp you will recall the great
THE OTTER AND THE BEAVER
133
lesson which the human race has learned
and is still learning from it.
“Now, grandsons, I believe my wife has
a surprise for you. I have watched her
working as hard as a beaver all day and
all this evening. Let us see what it is,
Wi-ha.”
“It is nothing very much, my chief,’’
she said. “It is only a cap apiece for the
boys. That beaver skin you tanned was a
large one, and I have made it into caps
for four boys. The caps will be good and
warm for winter.”
Wi-ha handed the caps over to Bear
Chief, and he passed them to the boys.
Oh, what nice warm caps they were! Red
Bird was so happy that he just could not
keep from dancing the friendship dance
around the lodge fire. And the other boys
joined him, whooping with happiness and
swinging their new beaver caps high above
their heads.
As the boys left, they repeated their
thanks over and over again to Bear Chief
134
WINNEBAGO STORIES
for the story and to his wife for the new
beaver caps. And they could be heard in
the distance whooping and calling like the
whippoorwill as they separated, each going
to his own lodge.
Bear Chief also thanked his wife for the
great trouble she had taken in making
the caps from the beaver skin for the boys,
but she was as pleased as he was. They
both knew that this would help the boys
to remember the story and to lead the life
of courage and industry it described.
THE STORY OF THE RABBIT
“Well, well, grandsons, where are you
going this morning? You look as though
you were off for a hunting trip. Is it rab¬
bits you are after? ”
“You are a good guesser, Bear Chief,’’
answered Green Crow.
“ No, I was not guessing, my son. I
have just come in from the woods where
almost everywhere in the snow I saw rabbit
tracks, so I thought a really wise boy would
try to get a rabbit dinner. Besides, those
arrows you have are not the kind to make
me think you are after buffalo, or even deer.
So was I guessing very hard? Before you
go, let me see your arrows.”
Now Little Turtle’s father had made
him some new arrows. He had taken great
pains with them, using several colors of
paint and a few straight feathers of the
wild turkey. When the other boys saw
these arrows there was nothing else to do,
135
136
WINNEBAGO STORIES
of course, but to have their fathers make
them arrows, too. After much coaxing each
boy had secured his father’s help.
The men had gone into the woods where
the young hickory trees were reaching up
among the older trees straight toward the
light. Here they had secured long, straight
saplings without any side branches or knots;
arrows from such wood were sure to fly
straight and true. Each father had made
four arrows for his son. Little Turtle’s
Little Turtle's father has made him some new arrows , and
the boys are starting off on a hunting trip
THE STORY OF THE RABBIT
137
arrows were tipped with turkey feathers
colored red. Flying Cloud’s were blue,
Green Crow’s were bronze or greenish black
like a blackbird’s neck, while Red Bird had
yellow feathers on his arrows.
The boys had gone hardly more than
half a mile from the village before they
came upon a dense thicket of weeds and
brush where the rabbit tracks were so
numerous that they knew this must be a
playground for the little furry folk.
In a short but serious council the boys
planned their attack. Little Turtle and
Flying Cloud were to go around the edge
of the brush to the farther end of the thicket
and wait there for the rabbits to come out,
while Red Bird and Green Crow were to go
through the brush, scaring the game and
driving it ahead of them. As soon as the
other boys had had time to get to their
places, Red Bird and Green Crow advanced
through the thicket with loud yells and much
breaking of the brush, making enough noise
to scare a moose, had there been one there.
138
WINNEBAGO STORIES
They had gone only halfway through
the brush when Little Turtle drew back
his best arrow and let it fly. With a shout
he ran forward and snatched up a dead rab¬
bit to show the other boys. But just then
Flying Cloud took aim and shot. And he,
too, got his rabbit. By that time the boys
were so excited that they were not ready
for the next three rabbits that ran out of
the brush. They shot, but missed by a
wide distance, and there were no more rab¬
bits in that thicket.
The boys went on more than a mile, but
found no more game. Of course there was
no use in going back the way they had
come, so they made a circle homeward.
They were growing discouraged when Red
Bird cried, “Ho, ho! Here are tracks of
quail, and there under that old log is the
place where they slept last night.’’ The
boys used more caution now as they crept
quietly forward along the tracks of the
birds, with Green Crow in the lead. Soon
he stopped very still, motioning the other
THE STORY OF THE RABBIT
139
boys to come up behind him and spread
themselves out fanwise.
There under a low-hanging bush were
the quail all clustered together because
they were cold. Each boy placed an arrow
upon his bowstring, took careful aim, and
shot. So nearly at the same second did
they do this that three of the birds instantly
fell. Red Bird had missed.
The boys were now happy again. They
had three quail and two rabbits, and started
with them straight for home and the warm
lodge. They were trudging along over the
snow and had almost reached the village
when Red Bird suddenly stood still and
exclaimed, “I say, boys, I have an idea.”
“What is it?” cried the others.
“Let’s make a feast for Bear Chief with
this game we have killed on our first hunt¬
ing trip.”
“That’s a good idea, Red Bird. How
did you ever happen to think of it? Let’s
do it!’-’ exclaimed Flying Cloud. “But
whose mother will make the feast for us?”
140
WINNEBAGO STORIES
“I’ll ask my mother. It was my idea,
and I’m sure my mother will do it,” insisted
Red Bird.
The boys fairly ran the rest of the way
home. Red Bird took the game and entered
his lodge while the rest waited outside. He
told his mother all about the hunt and how
he had suggested that the boys prepare a
feast for Bear Chief.
“Mother, will you cook the feast for
us?” he asked.
“Certainly,” she replied. “Bear Chief
has been good to my son and his friends.
I am ready to begin now if you boys will
tend the fire.”
How the boys did hurry about for wood
to make a slow, hot fire! Two of them
skinned the rabbits and got the quail ready
for roasting. Soon Red Bird’s mother had
the game baking on sharp sticks before the
fire. Then the boys ran over to Bear Chief’s
lodge to invite him and his wife to the feast.
The sun was just setting at the close of
the short winter day when the meal was
THE STORY OF THE RABBIT
141
Bennett photograph
Red Bird ’s mother preparing the feast the hoys are going
to give Bear Chief and his wife
ready. The quail had been roasted with
their feathers still on them, which saved the
sweetness of their flesh. The rabbits had
been wrapped in leaves of wild sage and
horehound, and the odors of the roasting
meat were just as savory as the meat was
delicious.
You may guess how much Bear Chief
enjoyed this feast in his honor, and how
much his wife, Wi-ha, liked a meal that she
had not cooked. And you may guess, too,
142
WINNEBAGO STORIES
how delighted the boys were to know they
had done something to repay the old man
and his wife for all their kindness. When
the meal was over, Bear Chief thanked the
boys for their thoughtfulness and Wi-ha
made a deep bow before Red Bird’s mother
as a sign of her great appreciation.
“Grandsons,” said the story-teller, “I
want you all to come over this evening for
another story, a Rabbit story. Will you
come? ”
“Ho, ho, ho, Grandfather Bear Chief!
That we will,” the boys all shouted joy¬
fully. And just as soon as it seemed proper
for them to do so they followed him to
his lodge.
“Come in and take your places, grand¬
sons.” As he rose to put wood on the fire,
the boys could see that the old man was
unusually happy. “Boys, I want to thank
you again for those rabbits and quail with
which you feasted my wife and me. I am
sure your success today means that you will
all be great hunters when you are men, and
THE STORY OF THE RABBIT
143
that your families will never lack for food.
As I ate the rabbit I remembered a story
my grandfather told me one winter’s eve¬
ning long ago, when I was a boy about your
age. This is the story:
“ In all the legends of the Winnebagoes,
the Rabbit, or Hare, takes the most promi¬
nent part in defending the people. And it
is also said that in the earliest times the
animals could change into human beings
and back again whenever they wished. Now
the Rabbit lived with his grandmother,
Mother Earth, who appears in our legends
as a woman. The Rabbit spent his time
going about doing good to people and fight¬
ing the monsters which were destroying
them. Every day he went out looking for
something good to do.
“One day he came upon a great monster
which had a long, long tongue. When this
tongue was stretched out it could lap up
whole villages of people, just as a dog laps
up water. The Rabbit began to wonder
how he could destroy this monster, but it
144
WINNEBAGO STORIES
was so much larger than he was that to
try to attack it himself was useless. Sud¬
denly it occurred to him to hide a little
flint knife upon his body and then to let
The Rabbit was the principal hero of the Winnebagoes.
He was supposed to spend his time going about doing
good and fighting for them
himself be swallowed just as many unfor¬
tunate people had been. Then he could
cut his way out of the monster’s stomach
and thus save many lives.
With his knife he went to a place where
the monster would probably pass. There
THE STORY OF THE RABBIT 145
he sat and sang, ‘Oh, you who lap them
in with your tongue, come and lap me in.’
“As the monster came near, it heard the
song and looked all about, but could see
no one. But the Rabbit kept singing his
song, and at last the monster saw a tiny
rabbit by the wayside. It said to itself,
‘ Perhaps this is the thing that is singing the
song.’ So it lapped the Rabbit up and
swallowed him.
“There, inside the monster, the Rabbit
found many people who had also been
swallowed. Taking his flint knife, he began
to cut into the monster’s side. The great
creature became sick and coughed four
times. The fourth time he coughed forth
the little Rabbit he had swallowed. He
looked this little creature all over but could
see no knife nor any other weapon, so he
swallowed him again. And once more the
Rabbit started to cut his way out of the
monster’s huge stomach. This he finally
succeeded in doing, and so saved all the
people whom he found there.
10
146
WINNEBAGO STORIES
“Another time, my grandfather said, the
Rabbit was wandering about over the earth
when he came upon the tracks of some large
creature. The tracks seemed to go straight
east and west, but the Rabbit could not
understand who could make such a strange
path. Each day he went out hoping to
solve this riddle, but always he was too
late to see the animal. Then he asked his
grandmother about it.
“‘Grandmother,’ said he, ‘I want you
to weave me a net that I can stretch across
the path and catch that strange creature.’
“Then Mother Earth went out and gath¬
ered nettles. With their fibers she spun
strong strings and made a net. This net
the Rabbit took and stretched across the
path of the thing that made the strange
tracks east and west. He hastened home
and went to bed, sure that on the morrow
he would learn what the creature was.
“The next morning the Rabbit went out
early. Lo and behold, the creature was
caught and held in the netting. He tried
THE STORY OF THE RABBIT
147
to get near it and find out what it was, but
such a terrible heat came from it that he
could not get at all close. So he ran home
and told his grandmother. She, too, went
out to see. And when she saw what it was
she scolded the little Rabbit severely.
‘“You bad, wayward, disrespectful little
creature, don’t you see that in your net
you have caught the Sun which gives life
and light and warmth to the people? Make
haste and loosen it. Set it free.’
“The Rabbit tried to get close up to the
Sun, but the heat was so great that he was
not able to free it. Then he hurried home
and borrowed his grandmother’s flint knife.
Armed with this he tried again, but still the
heat was too great for him.
“Suddenly it occurred to him to turn
around and back up to the net. This he
tried to do, but even in this position he
was burned. Then he thought of the hap¬
piness of the people, and with one great
effort backed up close enough to cut the
Sun free. The heat burned off part of his
148
WINNEBAGO STORIES
tail, but just the same the Rabbit was happy,
for he had helped his people. And then the
Sun went on its way to the west.
“ Grandsons, those are the two best rabbit
stories I know; my own grandfather told
them to me. And now we must say good
night.”
“Good night, Bear Chief,” answered the
boys as they rose to go. Red Bird was the
last boy to leave the lodge, and as he crept
through the door he looked back and said
with a smile, “Now I know, Bear Chief,
why the rabbit has such a short little tail.”
WAK-JON-KA-GAH
The weather had been cold and stormy,
and for several evenings the boys had
missed going to Bear Chief’s lodge. But
at last came a fine night when the stars
in the deep sky seemed to be trying to out¬
shine one another. When Flying Cloud
stood behind his father’s lodge and gave the
call of the whippoorwill, his cry sounded
in and out among the lodges of the other
families in the Winnebago village and on
out into the deep shadows of the pine for¬
ests beyond. Of course, there never are any
whippoorwills in the northern woods in
winter, for these birds are among the earli¬
est to start on the way for their winter
homes, leaving in late August, the Moon
of the Roasting Ears.
The cry of the whippoorwill, however,
was by this time well known to all the
people in the village as the call of the four
boys, and tonight everyone knew that some
149
150
WINNEBAGO STORIES
plan was on foot among them. A little
watching would have discovered four quick
shadows darting among the lodges toward
the home of the old story-teller.
“Ho, ho, ho, grandsons. Come right
in.” Bear Chief and his wife smiled as the
boys filed in and took their places on the
north side of the lodge. “My wife and I
were just talking about you not more than
the length of a locust song ago, wondering
what had become of you. What have you
boys been doing?”
“The weather has been so cold, Grand¬
father, that we have been staying close at
home,” answered Red Bird.
“I am glad you came this evening,
grandsons, for the winter evenings are long
and pass slowly when my wife and I are
all alone. You are the only boys we
have now.”
For a few minutes the boys waited in
silence and watched the smoke curl slowly
out of Bear Chief’s pipe. And they were
interested, too, in watching his wife’s swift
WAK-JON-KA-GAH
151
bone needle as she made high, fur-lined
moccasins for the old man to wear in
winter.
“Bear Chief,” she said at last, “why
don’t you tell the boys the story about
Wak-jon-ka-gah tonight? That is always
an interesting story, and a funny one, too.”
“Well, now, that’s a good idea,” he
replied. “You stir up the fire, Green
Crow, while I get my thoughts together
and try to remember how the story starts.”
And you may be sure that not Green Crow
alone, but all the boys brought in enough
wood to keep the fire going a long while.
Then the story began.
“Wak-jon-ka-gah was the eldest son of
the Great Spirit, and the one who was
always doing strange or foolish things. You
remember I told you that in the times long
ago there were monsters and evil spirits
who overcame the people. The cries of the
people went up to the Great Spirit until
he looked down upon them and saw their
condition. So he sent four of his sons to
152
WINNEBAGO STORIES
destroy the evil spirits and to save the
people and teach them the ways of life.
Those four sons represented four different
POUCHES WORN AT
INDIAN MEDICINE
DANCES
These pouches were
made of animal skins.
In early days they were
ornamented with porcu¬
pine or bird quills, but
later beads were used.
In them the Indians
kept various things to
please the good spirits
and to drive away the
evil ones. They called
these things good medi¬
cine or bad medicine
characters, so that the people might see in
actual life the things that would hinder
them and those that would do them good.
Wak-jon-ka-gah, the eldest son, represented
the foolish things of life, and in the stories
of our people he lived those foolish things,
and did them.
WAK-JON-KA-GAH
153
“The second son was the Boaster. The
third son was the Warrior, or the Turtle,
and the fourth was the Wise One, or the
Rabbit, who finally succeeded in saving the
people. Each one of these sons helped to
teach the people, and as you grow older
you, yourselves, will see these sons of the
Great Spirit and learn from them in your
own lives.
“But now about Wak-jon-ka-gah. Once
he was going along with a large pack on
his back. He came to a great river and
turned to follow its banks, just to see
what was beyond the next bend. It wasn’t
long until he came to a wide sand bar
upon which were many geese and ducks.
They spied him right away and said to
each other, ‘Oh, there goes Wak-jon-ka-gah.
Let’s call him over here and have him sing
for us to dance.’ So they called to him
and he went over on the sand bar where
they were.
“‘Wak-jon-ka-gah, can you sing any
songs ? ’ they asked him.
154
WINNEBAGO STORIES
“‘Why, to be sure I can,’ he said.
‘This big pack on my back is nearly all
songs.’
“With that he set his pack on the
ground, much to the joy of the ducks and
geese. Then he ordered them to build a
long lodge out of tall bluejoint grass and
to make it very tight, with only one small
door in the end. When it was finished, he
told them all to go inside, where they
strutted around, very happy over the dance
that was coming.
“Now, it was part of the foolishness of
Wak-jon-ka-gah to think himself very wise
and very smart. So he seated himself at
the entrance, completely filling the door¬
way. When all was ready, he told the
geese and ducks to dance in a circle around
the edge of the lodge and above all things
to keep their eyes closed, for if they danced
with them open their eyes would become red,
a great disgrace among the bird tribes.
“With these instructions Wak-jon-ka-gah
started to sing, and the ducks and geese
WAK- JON-KA-GAH
155
started to dance, and each duck and each
goose came near him as it danced around
the lodge. And because he was the eldest
of the Great Spirit’s creations he sang thus:
“‘Oh, younger brothers, he who opens
his eyes shall have red eyes. His eyes
shall be red if he opens them.’
“ Wak-jon-ka-gah sang his best, and the
ducks and geese danced better than they
had ever danced before, circling slowly past
him and keeping time to his music. He
noted them all carefully, and whenever a
big, fat goose came dancing by he seized it
and wrung its neck. As it died, each goose
made a squawking sound.
‘“That’s right, that’s right,’ Wak-jon-
ka-gah cried. ‘They who dance should
give a whoop once in a while.’ And then
he seized another bird and wrung its neck.
This he kept up, singing all the while,
until a large pile of fine geese and ducks
lay beside him.
“Finally an old bird of the teal family
grew suspicious of the whoops, for they did
156
WINNEBAGO STORIES
not sound just natural, so she danced close
to where Wak-jon-ka-gah sat and opened
her eyes the least tiny bit. Just then she
saw him seize a goose and wring its neck.
“‘Oh, he is killing us all!’’ she cried in
alarm. ‘Save yourselves!’
“The geese and ducks fluttered madly
about and soon broke through the grass
sides of the lodge, escaping in all directions.
But ever since then all the teals have had
little red eyes.
“‘Ah, thus a man enables himself to
eat,’ said Wak-jon-ka-gah to himself, full of
pride at his smartness. Then from his
pack he took a large kettle and with water
from the river cooked all the birds he had
killed. While they were cooking, he pre¬
pared a table of green boughs upon which
to pile the meat. When all was ready he
seated himself to eat, but just as he raised
the first morsel to his mouth two large
trees near by were swayed by the wind so
that they rubbed together and made a
squeaking sound.
WAK-JON-KA-GAH
157
“‘Wough, why do you annoy me just
as I am about to eat?’ grumbled Wak-jon-
ka-gah. Again he raised the goose meat
toward his mouth, but again the wind
blew, and again the trees rubbed together
and squeaked. Thus it happened four times
before he had even had a bite.
“After the fourth time Wak-jon-ka-gah
jumped up and climbed one of the trees,
reaching between them to try to separate
them. But just then the wind blew again,
and his fingers were caught between the
trees so that he could not release himself.
“‘Ah, younger brothers,’ he pleaded
with the trees, ‘ I was only joking when I
scolded you. Please let me go.’
“‘No, Wak-jon-ka-gah, that we cannot
do. The Great Spirit created us only trees.
We have no will of our own and cannot
do anything of ourselves. Only the winds,
the spirits, or some other power can make
us act. We are helpless.’
“Because the wind had stopped blowing,
Wak-jon-ka-gah was caught and could not
158
WINNEBAGO STORIES
get away. As he hung there he spied a
pack of wolves going by along the river’s
edge. Now, if he had kept still they would
never have known that he was anywhere
at hand. But he did just the other thing
because he was so foolish.
“‘Oh, you wolves, don’t come this way.
Go a little farther away,’ he yelled to
them.
“ Hearing the noise of some one yelling,
the wolves stopped and looked about.
“‘O-ho, it is Wak-jon-ka-gah,’ they
cried. ‘What can be the matter with him,
away up there in a tree? Let us go and
find out.’ So the wolves came toward him.
Again he urged them to keep away, but
they saw that he could not drive them off
because of the trouble he was in. So they
ate up all his food.
“‘Please, younger brothers, at least you
can leave me the broth, if I let you have
the meat,’ he entreated. But the wolves
drank the broth, too, and then ran away.
Then at last Wak-jon-ka-gah, exerting all
WAK-JON-KA-GAH
159
his strength, forced the two trees far enough
apart to get his fingers out.
“He slid down the tree and looked
about. The wolves had eaten all his food
and drunk the broth. The geese and ducks
had all escaped up and down the river.
Now he had had nothing to eat, and his
fingers hurt where they had been pinched
between the trees.
“‘Certainly I must be foolish,’ he said
to himself. ‘No wonder people call me
Wak-jon-ka-gah.’
“Now, grandsons, that is one of many
stories about Wak-jon-ka-gah,” said Bear
Chief. “And as the evening is getting late,
don’t you think we had better stop for
tonight and get into our beds?”
“Grandfather Bear Chief, if Wak-jon-ka-
gah had all that power, why didn’t he use
it in the first place and save himself all
that trouble?” asked Flying Cloud.
“I wish it had been me,” said Green
Crow. “I would at least have come down
before the wolves got there.”
160
WINNEBAGO STORIES
“That is just the lesson the story is
intended to teach,” replied the old story¬
teller. “Don’t you see that we are all
Wak-jon-ka-gahs, in one way or another,
and that we do many things that are fool¬
ish and could have been prevented if we
had thought hard enough or fast enough?
What do you think about it, Little Turtle?
I see that you want to say something.”
“That is just what I was thinking,”
said Little Turtle. “I can see now that I
am a Wak-jon-ka-gah. The other night I
was thirsty and looked in the water jar,
but found it empty. It was growing late
and I did not think anyone else would be
wanting a drink that night, so I did not
take the jar to the spring as I should have
done. But in a few minutes my mother
saw the empty jar and went to the spring
herself. Then I took a drink. I can see
now that I let the wolves get the best of
me that time.”
Green Crow, who was always the first
to criticize others, admitted that he had
WAK-JON-ICA-GAH
161
done the same thing a great many times,
and he hung his head as he admitted it.
“Well, grandsons,” said Bear Chief, “I
am glad you liked the story and that you
understood it. You must thank my wife
for it.”
“Grandmother,” cried the boys, turning
to Wi-ha, “we certainly do thank you for
this story and for your part in all the
others. And we thank you, too, for the
good, warm beaver caps we are finding so
snug and comfortable these winter days.
Good night.”
Soon the “whippoorwills” could be heard
as they disappeared in the distance, and
silence settled down upon the lodges of the
Winnebago village.
The ceremonial pipe of the Winnebagoes, called the calumet
A PRONOUNCING AND DEFINING
VOCABULARY
Ak-sia-ga (ahk-see-ah'gah), the third daughter of a family
Cha-hayo-wak-sho-we-ra (chah-hao-wahk'shu-wee-ra), antler-
shedding moon — December
Cha-kee-roo-xay-we-ra (chah-kee-roo'gha-wee-ra), the deer¬
mating moon — November
Champlain (sham-plen'), Samuel de, born 1567, died 1635;
founded Quebec, 1608; discovered Lake Champlain, 1608
Cha-my-na-xo-we-ra (Chah-ml-nuh-gho'wee-ra), the deer¬
digging moon — October
Co-no (ko-no')> the eldest son
Ha-ga (hah'gah), the third son
Ha-shootch-ga (hah-shootch'gah), red horn; a thunder spirit
He-nu (hay'nuh), the second son
Hi-nu (hee'noo), the eldest daughter
Hi-nun-ka (hee-nun'kay), the fourth daughter
Honch-we-cho-nee-we-ra (honch-wee-cho'nee-wee-ra), the first
bear moon, the month when the young bears are born —
January
Honch-we-ra-gnee-ra (honch-wee-rah'gnee-rah), the last bear
moon — F ebruary
Ho-ro-gee-nah-we-ra (ho-ro-geen'ah-wee-rah) , the fish-spawning
moon, the month when the fish can be seen as the ice
clears away — April
Ho-wy-zhook-we-ra (ho-wy-zhook'wee-rah), the elk-calling
moon — September
Ho-zaza-kay-we-ra (ho-zay'zah-kay-wee-rah), the bobolink
moon — September
163
164 PRONOUNCING AND DEFINING VOCABULARY
Illinois (il-li-noi'), French from the Indian il-li-ni , men. A
confederacy of Algonquian tribes formerly occupying
southern Wisconsin, northern Illinois, and sections of
Iowa and Missouri
Kae-cha-gae-ga (kay-chah'gae-ga), the turtle
Ku-nu , another form of Co-no
Massasoit (mas-a-soyt'), Great Chief, Chief of Wampanoags,
father of King Philip, and loyal to Plymouth colonists in
1621. Died 1661
Missouri (miz-zu'ri), muddy water, or great muddy
My-ra-oon-we-ra (my-ra-ung'wee-rah), the cultivating moon —
June
My-ta-woos-we-ra (my-tah-woos'wee-rah), the earth-drying
moon — May
Nan-xi (nahn-ghee'), the fourth son
Nebraska (ne-bras'ka), shallow or broad water. A name given
to the Platte River by the Sioux Indians
Nicolet (ni-co-lay'), Jean, the first white man to visit the
Winnebagoes, in 1634
Omaha (o'ma-ha), “up stream,” or “those going against the
wind or current.” One of the tribes of the Sioux nation
Osage (o-sag'), derived from Wazhazhe , a chief of a band of
Sioux
Pawnee (paw-nee'), derived from pariki , meaning a horn,
because of a custom of wearing the hair erect, stiffened
with paint and fat. An Indian tribe which first lived
in Texas, Louisiana, and Arkansas
Pocahontas (po-ca-hon'tas), “she is playful.” Born 1595,
died 1617. Daughter of Powhatan and the legendary
deliverer of Captain John Smith; married John Rolfe of
Virginia colony
Pottawatomi (pot-ta-wat'o-mi), “people of the place of fire.”
A tribe living along the southern shores of Lake Michigan,
from Michigan into Wisconsin
PRONOUNCING AND DEFINING VOCABULARY 165
Psin-na-ke-tu'we-ra , a Sioux word for September
Sioux (su), “snake, adder, or enemy.” A group of tribes which
had similar languages and lived in the plains region of the
Missouri, upper Mississippi, and Red River of the North.
Generally “Sioux” refers to the Dakota Indians only
Wa-kay-kee-roo-xay-we-ra (wah-kay-kee-roo'ghay-wee-rah), the
raccoon moon — March
W ak-jon-ka-gah (wahk-chon'kah-gah) , undependable, foolish,
simple
We-ta-jox-he-we-ra (wee-tah-chok'he-wee-rah), corn-popping
moon, month when the roasted ears of corn burst —
August
We'ter-i-we-ra, a Sioux word for the hard or cold month —
January
Wi-ha (wee 'hah), the second daughter
Winnebagoes (wm-e-ba'gos), “people of the filthy water.” A
tribe of Siouan Indians living across central Wisconsin.
They called themselves “ Ho-chunk-er-rah”
Wisconsin (wis-kon'sin), derived from Ouisconsin. A name
occasionally used to designate the group of tribes living
on the banks of the Wisconsin River, including the Sauk,
Fox, and others
Wixo-tee-ra (or “wah-chotch'rah-wee-rah”), the corn-tassel
moon, or the moon that makes them gray; when the corn
tassels appear and the fields look gray — July
Wo'-ju-je-we-ra, a Sioux word for “planting moon” — May
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